Winter's Soliloquy
by calla lilly rose
Summary: A new season, a new story. Ponyboy's adventures in growing up with only his brothers and the gang to guide him continue.
1. Christmas Gifts

A/N : I do not own The Outsiders. All rights, characters, etc. belong to SE Hinton. Thanks, Susan.

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 1

**Christmas Gifts**

XXX

"Well, Darry, what are you gonna do? Certainly you've decided by now?"

Michelle was giving me that look, that _knowing _look that I was being overprotective again. I hated it, mostly because I knew she was right. Still, looking up at the weather, I had my doubts.

"Yeah, I'll let him go. But I ain't gonna like it." I set the grocery bags in the back of the truck and looked at her.

She smirked. "Of course you won't_ like_ it... nobody said you had to like it, but the two of them will be together. Sodapop can keep Ponyboy in line … better than you can, anyway."

She was teasing me, and it was getting on my nerves.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I grumbled as I opened my truck door for her.

"That you are more parental than brotherly, and teenagers are - by definition - rebellious of their parents."

Not liking the fact that I was losing this argument, I tried once more for the upper hand. "I _am_ his brother. He knows that." I groused as I climbed in and started the engine.

"Yes, he does. He also realizes that you have authority that overshadows being his brother. Sodapop doesn't have that authority. Not officially, anyway."

I was thinking hard for a comeback, but had none. Next thing I knew, Michelle's fingers were gently brushing the nape of my neck, and I gave up the argument altogether.

"Besides, this way we can spend New Years Eve together. If you want to, that is."

I looked at her, fighting hard not to grin like an idiot. I hadn't thought about it that way. I took her hand and held it, resting our linked fingers on my knee.

"I'd like that just fine."

No one was home when I pulled back to the house. I knew Soda was at work but had no idea where Pony'd run off to. He wasn't over at Rosewood's, that much I did know. He was going in tonight for a few hours, his last gig before Christmas. Michelle poured herself something to drink while I put away the groceries that I'd planned to make Christmas dinner with.

"Mmmh, a silent house. This could be interesting....." Her eyes were devious.

"_Very_ interesting..." I agreed as I wedged her in between the sink and the stove, leaning in to savor her scent. However, as our lips brushed against each other, the front door opened with a bang as someone else had arrived. I moved away, feeling the heat on my face and an unsettled pleasantness a little further south.

"Oh, hey Darry. Michelle. Didja get any Oreo's?"

Michelle's face was still flushed red as she watched my youngest brother search the pantry. It was obvious he'd been out running. He was wearing at least two layers of sweat pants, two different sweat tops, and a running jacket. Sweat beaded on his face and ran down his neck. His shoes made muddy tracks on the floor as he went from cabinet to fridge in search of something to eat and drink.

"Heck, Pony... I just got the grocery. Can't you let it sit in the cabinet for a few hours before you dive in?"

He managed to look reproachful as he settled for some chips. "Sorry. I'm hungry. You know running amps up my appetite."

He was giving Michelle a funny look, she still hadn't moved from the corner of the kitchen and her skin was still a bit red-tinged. Then he looked at me. I didn't miss the slowing of his jaw as he chewed over an idea. I could tell the moment it hit him. He still turns beet red when embarrassed.

"I uh, I got to go.... forgot, uh, forgot I told Sodapop I'd come over.... help with … something." He dropped the chip bag on the table as he hastily zipped his jacket, and was out the door before he heard me call him back.

"Ponyboy, wait!"

Michelle was laughing and came over, wrapping her arms around me from behind.

"Let him go. And speaking of going, I'd better go too. I'm covering for a few hours tonight. But I'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Darry."

I turned and held her in my arms, releasing her only after kissing her lips so deeply I swore I could taste the gum she'd been chewing earlier.

"Bye."

XXX

"What are you doing here, kid?" Steve called out. "They close the library or something?"

I looked up, seeing Ponyboy traipsing into the garage. I turned down the radio. What in the blue blazes he was doing walking in this weather?

"Ain't you cold?" I asked. He reached in the fridge and grabbed a Pepsi, nodding as he popped the top and guzzled it.

"Yeah, but I'm fine." he answered before belching. I grinned.

"Yeah, right. You're gonna catch pneumonia, dip-shit." Steve put in.

"Not likely." He looked around. "Slow day?"

"Everyone's out doing their holiday shopping. Not too many people want an oil change as a gift." It had been a slow day, mostly just fill-ups or checking tire pressure. Only three people came in for anything more involved, which was clearly wearing on Steve's nerves. Sitting around didn't bother me, I got the same dough whether I was busting my balls to keep up or sitting on my ass in boredom. "Whacha doing here?"

Pony looked up, his eyebrows a little higher than normal. "Darry's entertaining company at the house."

Steve got it first. "Alright! Bout time he got some."

I looked at Ponyboy, waiting for details that weren't forthcoming. "You caught him in the act?"

"No. But they were both acting weird and got all quiet when I came in. I high-tailed it out of there when I clued in. Think he's gonna be mad at me?"

"Where they both still dressed?" Steve asked, interested for once with something Pony had to say.

"Yeah."

"Ehh, don't sweat it. Just learn to knock first." Steve went back to the tool chest, putting all the wrenches back in order.

"I shouldn't _have_ to knock... that's my house!" Pony squeaked with indignation.

Steve looked at me. "You explain it to him."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't worry about it, Ponyboy. Just... jiggle the door knob a bit if the door's closed."

"But Soda ...!"

"Look, one day you'll get it. Until then, just do it." Steve argued back. The whole thing was getting comical to me, and I had to stifle a grin.

"I_ do_ get it. I ain't ignorant..." he said defiantly, suddenly angry, "I just... ain't used to it." His voice softened to a barely audible whisper as his ears turned crimson.

"Used to what, Pone?" I asked carefully.

"Darry dating again and all. That whole scene." He tossed his empty bottle in the trash and leaned against the doorway, that far-away look in his eyes. I understood, it had been years since Darry had been out on a date, and it was weird thinking of him in a relationship again. Big tough Darry, hard as nails Darry, never letting his soft side out Darry; getting all goosey for a gal. Even for me, it would take a bit of getting used to. Especially since the gal was the nurse who'd seen every inch of my body - on more than one occasion. I chucked him hard on the shoulder and he grinned some, then together helped me clean up the shop.

An hour later, we headed home. I'd hoped Darry was done by then.

XX

"Here, Soda. You too, Ponyboy. Merry Christmas, guys."

Darry handed me a small package, Santa faces all over it. I tore the paper off and opened it, a new pair of gloves tucked between sheets of tissue paper. Real leather. I tried them on, liking the feel of the lining inside.

"Thanks, Darry." I said with a smile. These weren't cheap. I was sort of surprised, expecting something a little less extravagant - like socks or briefs. Something simple. To say money had been tight was like saying fire was just a little hot. We were broke, no need to sugar coat it.

"Hey, tuff enough. Thanks, Darry!" Soda opened his box, a new pair of jeans being his gift. I was glad, he was running out of jeans good enough to wear out on the strip. All his other clothes smelled like the DX - even after being washed.

I handed Darry and Soda each a box. Darry was surprised. "You shouldn't have, kiddo. You should spend your money on yourself."

"Shut up and take it." I said, sitting back to watch. For once I could get them gifts earned with my own money, not given to me by someone else. Soda gave me a one sided grin, as if he knew what secrets I'd been keeping from him over the last week. I was pretty sure they didn't know, but then again, Soda could always figure out what his gifts were since the time we were kids. Always bugged Mom that she couldn't surprise him.

The look of shock, though, on their faces told me I'd managed to surprise them this year. Key chains with their names engraved on them sat inside small cotton filled boxes.

"Geeze, Pony. This is … wow." Soda said. I smiled even more knowing he was at a loss of words. That was a rare event, catching Soda so off guard. He palmed the keychain, then looked upset.

"Something wrong," I got up to check again. I'd checked the keychains over when I got them back from the store, did I miss something on the name?

"No, kiddo. Ain't nothing wrong." Soda said, holding the keychain tighter. "It's just, well, you know I ain't been back to work very long, I wasn't able to do anything this nice. I sort of feel bad about it."

I held Soda's package to myself, the paper not yet torn off. I shook it, knowing it wouldn't matter. Having Soda was gift enough. Nothing could replace my family.

"It's a pair of socks, Ponyboy. A sad, disappointing pair of socks," he said quietly, killing my surprise.

"It's from_ you_, Soda. That's what's important."

The lessons I'd learned from the last year have taught me plenty, and those where the types of lessons no tangible gift could replace.

He reached over and tousled my hair. "Thanks."

"Enough of this. Who's hungry?" Darry got up, heading to the kitchen to start the ham.

XXX

"Hey Ponyboy," Darry nudged me during a commercial break. A Christmas show was on, and I was knee deep in it. I looked over.

"Yeah?"

"If you want to go to Hollis, I guess you can go. _With Sodapop._.. on the 30th, provided Mrs. Nixon says it's okay."

Instantly, I forgot the movie.

"Really? You mean it?" I guess Darry understood how much I wanted to go, cause he grinned one of his rare smiles as he nodded.

"Yeah, I mean it. But you have to be back on the first. You still have school and Sodapop has work, don't forget."

I was so excited, I nearly hugged him. He seemed to understand. Then he turned all parental on me.

"And if I hear of any inappropriate behavior between you and a certain teenage viper, you _won't_ be going back. Clear?"

I looked over at Soda standing in the kitchen, dishtowel slung over his shoulder with a knowing grin.

"Yeah, clear."

"Uh huh. Don't be testing my trust."

"Relax, Darry; I'll be with Sodapop. And Mrs. Nixon."

He got up from the couch as my show came back on, mumbling to himself. _"Famous last words."_

_XXX_

Calla Lily Rose


	2. Black Ice

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 2

**Black Ice**

XXX

Soda was under the hood as I brought out my bag, tossing it in with his in the back of the pickup.

"Well?" Darry asked, a concerned look on his face. Soda smiled.

"Relax, Darry. I'm a mechanic, remember? It's fine. The oil's changed, the fluids are all good. I put fresh antifreeze in ... for an old truck, it's as ready as it's ever gonna be." Soda closed the hood and hopped in, starting the engine to heat the cab.

Darry looked skyward again, his hands hitched on his jeans pockets. I knew that look. Any second now I expected him to cancel the whole trip. The temperatures have been falling drastically at night all week, and snow was expected eventually along our route. Soda, however, looked eager to get the show on the road and I was just as antsy to get the Tulsa skyline as far back in the rear view mirror as I could.

"You be careful out there. Stick to the main roads. No speeding. Look out for...."

"Darry! C'mon, man. I got a license. I know how to drive. We'll be fine!"

Darry shut up and moved out of the way so Soda could close the door. "Call when you get there," he said one last time before moving out of the way.

"Bye, Darry. Happy New Year!" I shouted.

"Yeah, Happy New Year. And say hey to Michelle for us. Three days with no little brothers busting in the door... what _will _you do?" Soda laughed and drove off before we could hear an answer.

"Finally! You ready to have some fun, Ponyboy?"

I grinned. "Yeah. You think Darry's actually gonna cool off too?"

Sodapop's grin was cheesy. "Well, if he don't find _something_ more entertaining to do besides work, it won't be our fault." He flipped on the radio and we listened to songs that had our feet tapping as the dirty streets of Tulsa sped past us, leading us first out of town then onto the highway. Traffic thinned out the further we got away from home.

An hour later, the sky's looming clouds had my attention more than the radio. Soda'd noticed the sky too, turning the volume down as he seemed to grip the steering wheel a bit steadier.

"They said snow was in the forecast. I was hoping they were lying," he mumbled. I glanced over at him. A nervous Sodapop was not something that made me feel good.

"Looks like they got it right for once. We gonna be okay?"

He flashed me a grin. "Yeah, we're gonna be fine. No sweat."

I went back to listening to the radio, the edge of worry easing up some.

"Pony... you like Linda, don't you?"

I wasn't sure if he was just trying to break the silence, but this wasn't what I really wanted to talk about. However, if there was anyone I could trust, it'd be Sodapop. He'd shared enough with me over the years.

"Yeah, I do. But it's been a while since I saw her. Things might have changed."

He gave me a coy smile. "Pone, she's called the house a few times since the fall. I doubt things have changed. She still likes you, I'd bet on it."

I couldn't help smiling. "Maybe, maybe not. We'll see." I thought about it, relishing the memories of the few phone conversations we'd had. "Darry sure don't like her." I mumbled. I still couldn't do anything right in his eyes.

"That's cause she's a girl. Wouldn't matter if her name was Karen, Shannon or Mary. Darry just ain't used to you liking girls. He'll get used to it, eventually."

I nodded; my eyebrows raised, silently saying _I'd believe it when I see it._

"Look, Darry might have sent me along to chaperone your every movement... but I think he's being a bit over the top. You _do_ know how to behave, right?"

As I nodded my head, the truck suddenly swerved. Soda grabbed the wheel, pulling it out of the fishtail. I looked behind us, not seeing what in the heck happened. At the same time, I was immensely grateful there were no other cars anywhere near us on the road.

"What happened?" I gasped, letting go of the seat. Soda now had both hands on the steering wheel and had reduced his speed by ten miles an hour.

"Damned black ice." His look was serious again. We were nearly in Oklahoma City, nearly half way there. "One thing's for certain, when we get back, Darry's gonna get new tires. These bald pieces of shit have no traction whatsoever."

Thoughts of Linda went away for a while as Soda concentrated on the road. We made it into Oklahoma City with no further problems and I relaxed again. Just before we were to leave Oklahoma City, Soda pulled up to a gas station to top off the tank. In the few trips Soda and Darry had made, they knew how desolate the rest of the trip was. Better to fill up than try to make it to the next station on a hope and a prayer.

"Hey, how's the road west of here?" Soda asked the guy on the other side of the pump.

"Not bad. A few flakes are coming down, making everything right nice to look at. Just in time for New Years, too. Shame we couldn't have had it during Christmas!"

"Hey Soda, I'm going inside a minute."

"Here, get us some drinks and snacks." He handed me a dollar and I headed inside. While Soda was freezing at the pump, I picked up the pay phone in the corner of the store.

It rang forever, then picked up.

"Is Linda there? This is Ponyboy."

_"Evening, young man. I heard you were coming back for a visit. Hold on, I'll get her."_

Her dad's deep voice sounded chipper. I wondered what Mrs. Nixon had told him of our last moments when I was in the hospital.

_"Hey,"_ her voice purred. "_Where are you?"_

"Out on I 44, just south of the airport. Looks like we're gonna be a bit longer. The road's getting slick. How is it there?"

_"Snowing. They've already shut down some of the side roads. Who's with you, the fun brother or the behemoth_?"

I laughed, wondering if it was something personal those two had against each other or if they just enjoyed their childish antics. "Soda's bringing me. Darry had to work."

_"What a shame_!" she said with fake disappointment.

The horn honked, Soda was back in the cab waiting on me. "I gotta go. I, uh, can't wait to see you again. If.. unless of course, you don't...."

The horn honked again.

"_Pony, I want to see you too. Be careful out there."_

I smiled. "We will. Bye."

I hung up the phone, grabbed the bag at my feet and jumped in the truck.

"Took you long enough. What's Darry doing?"

I looked at him, confused. He gave me a look and grinned. "Gotcha. What's Linda doing, then?"

I felt my face get hot. "I never really got to ask that. She mentioned some roads being shut down. Snow."

"Great." He mumbled, turning on the windshield wipers. Some fat flakes were coming down now, and the more he drove, the fatter they got.

Thirty minutes later, Soda slowed to a halt. I looked up. "What's the deal?" I knew we weren't there yet.

"Detour. Road's closed. Get the map out of the glove box, would ya?" Soda headed down the detour. It led us onto State Road 62, a desolate road if ever there was one. It didn't help that we were going at a snails pace and the sun was already going down.

"Looks like this leads us onto Route 9. It'll loop us around then down to Hollis." Soda didn't respond. I looked at him, his concentration on the road made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. "Sodapop?" My uncertainty was easily heard.

"This was a mistake," he mumbled. I wasn't sure if he was talking to me.

"You want to turn back?"

He was silent for so long, I thought he either hadn't heard me or had forgotten the question.

"You, uh, you wanna go..."

"... No." He interrupted bluntly. "We're too far gone to turn around. It's just going to take longer." He glanced at me, then broke out into a halfhearted smile, nudging me some with his hand. "It's okay, Ponyboy."

However, I wasn't exactly convinced. Driving was to him a challenge; he hated to be defeated by strange roads and detours. An hour later, with the sky blackened and snowflakes coming down in sporadic blinding flurries and no cars having passed us in either direction since getting on the detour, even I was certain this was... indeed... a _very _big mistake.

"Soda..." I said thickly, not able to finish the thought in my head.

"I know," he answered in the same tone, reading my mind.

Without warning, the truck must have hit another patch of snow covered black ice. It fishtailed left, then swung right. Soda fought to regain control but overcompensated, the tires having no tread to grip with. In a whirl of motion bad enough to nearly make me carsick, we spun around blindly then came to an abrupt stop.

"Soda?" I moaned, feeling a sudden blast of cold. I looked up into the darkness. Everything looked skewed. I felt like I was being pulled from my seat. "Soda?" I groaned a little louder, hoping the carsick feeling would dissipate. Looking over, I saw the steering wheel and an empty seat. The driver's side door was open, but no one was there.

"Soda!" I shouted.

The only sound I heard was the wind howling back at me.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	3. Feelings

Okay, a little disclaimer... there's a bit of adult behavior in this chapter, not enough to warrant an M rating, (I've read worse in other fic's), but enough to make some of you perhaps blush. It isn't anything more than you'd find in a Harlequin book, and for those who just don't like Darry having any kind of romantic interest.. than this just really won't be a chapter you're gonna want to read. However.. the guy ain't dead.

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 3

**Feelings**

XXX

The door opened a moment after I'd knocked, a smile greeting me in ways none on the East side could.

"Hey. I was wondering when you'd show up."

She opened the door wider, letting me inside then closed it, brushing against me slightly as she did so. It took a lot of control to not take her in my arms right then.

"I hope you like lasagna. It's almost ready." She headed into the kitchen while I settled myself on a bar stool along the counter, watching.

"As long as it's not green or has corn chips in it." I smiled, remembering disasters past.

"Green? Corn chips? Why would a lasagna have corn chips in it?" She stopped and looked at me.

"Why indeed? I've asked that question a few times myself. Sodapop likes to.... uh, experiment, with food."

I couldn't tell if she was grossed out or confused, her look could go for either. I laughed.

"It's just him, that's all. I've gotten used to it."

"You poor man." She grabbed some pot holders and pulled the dish out of the oven. It smelled great, and looked - normal. "Does Ponyboy cook?"

I nodded. "Yeah, when he get's the notion. Usually it's whatever he can find in a can or in a frozen box to toss in the oven. But when he gets it in his head to really cook, he's pretty good. Makes one heck of a mess in the process though. I hate cleaning up after him." I felt something brush by my foot and looked down. A cat was there, looking for all the world like it wanted to use me as a sharpening post.

"Scram, Freckles," Michelle commanded. The cat looked at her and sauntered away, hopping up on a bookcase and laying down on its feet to glare at me. I gave it one more look and turned my attention back to Michelle. "Well, you won't need to clean up after me. Now do tell - did you get them headed out of town or are they back at your place?"

"They're gone. For a few days, anyway. I hope they behave themselves. I have a feeling Ponyboy's gonna do something I'll regret later on."

She looked at me, a devious smile gracing her face. "Sodapop's with him, right?"

"That doesn't exactly mean they'll behave." I laughed, although it wasn't really a joke.

She pulled two beers from the fridge, popped the tops and handed me one.

"And what teenage kids behave when they're away from home?"

"If you're trying to comfort me, it ain't working." I grinned.

"You were a young teenage guy once upon a time and managed to survive. And somehow, I doubt you were a saint in your parent's eyes."

"Don't remind me," I chuckled, as highlights of my own stupid teenage stunts zipped across my memory.

"They're good kids, both of your brothers. You've done a good job, being both father and mother to them."

"I've done the best I could, but I'm in no way comparable to my parents. Especially my mother. She … had a way." There was no way I could convey how my mother was with us, especially with Ponyboy. She never claimed favorites among us and in truth, he got it when he deserved it just as Soda and I did … but they'd connected in ways that were different than the bond she had with me, or even with Soda. Then again, Dad had bonded with me and Soda in ways that Ponyboy never got to experience. He and Dad were just starting to develop that relationship when, in one disastrous night, everything ended.

"Darry, you still with me?"

I looked up out of my reverie and grinned. "Yeah. Sorry."

She shook her head at me, one hand on her hip. "You spend too much time worrying about them. It's consuming you, it really is."

"Oh is it?" I asked with a swallow of my beer.

"Yes, it is..." she said as she came over and wrapped her arms around my neck. "But not this weekend. This weekend is _my_ turn. You've got a few days alone; no brothers to feed, shuttle off to work or school, or hound into doing homework. A few days alone.... without anyone around... getting in the way....."

She was so close, I could feel the warmth of her breath on my face. She was right there, leaning into me and I put my arms around her, closing the gap that separated us. However, I left enough room that if she wanted out of my arms, all she had to do was leave.

She didn't.

"Hmmm, well I can't really_ go_ anywhere, seeing as how they have the truck," I said with a coy grin as I looked into her eyes. Her hair streamed down her back and I felt its silkiness in my hand as I ran my fingers through its length. "Guess I'll have to stay home and hang around my house.... or bother you here at yours...."

The smile told me she approved and I leaned in even closer, kissing her. Sure, we'd kissed already, but not like this. This was different - as if testing uncharted water, water I could tell we both desired to taste. As I pressed my lips to hers, her lips moved with mine, accepting and reciprocating every motion as her body melded into me. Her hands kneaded the material of my shirt, each fingertip palpable against my back. When air was needed, it came in heady gasps as I didn't want to stop. I was parched, and needed to drink more.

"Stay..." she breathed, and I knew exactly what she meant.

"Are you sure?" I wanted to as badly as she wanted me to, but I knew if I stayed, things would happen that neither of us could change.

The corners of her mouth turned up, a faint smile looking up at me. "Yes. I'm sure. Stay. Please."

In one swift motion I picked her up and carried her down the hallway of her apartment, back toward the bedroom. Dinner would wait. I had other issues to take care of first.

XXX

"Dad, I don't get it. Something must have happened." Linda looked out the window at the dark road in front of her house.

"Linda, honey, stop worrying." Her mother insisted. "Besides, they're going to Mrs. Nixon's, not here. If the weather gets too bad, I'm sure they'll pull into a hotel. Now, come eat your dinner."

Linda gave the falling snow another worried glance and got up, sitting at the table reluctantly. In the pit of her stomach, she knew something was wrong. They should have been at Mrs. Nixon's an hour ago, and Ponyboy would have called her if they had gone to a hotel.

"Can I at least go to Mrs. Nixon's_ after_ dinner?"

"Young lady...." her father started, but Mrs. McDougal put her hand on his.

"George, let her go. It's just to Agnes's place."

He shifted in his chair, obviously not liking the situation he was in but not one to argue with his wife. "Fine. Go to Mrs. Nixon's. But you'd better not cause her any trouble, and you'll have to ride over on Newman. I'm not risking getting stuck in the truck."

"Thanks, Momma, Daddy." Glee filled her eyes, glad she could go. She rushed through dinner, flew to her room to put on an extra layer of clothes to combat the cold, found her gloves and hat and went out to saddle her horse. A few minutes later, she rode off into the dark.

"She sure has a thing for that boy." Mr. McDougal groused. "If he knows what's good for him, he'll keep his hands to himself."

"Oh George, stop it." Mrs. McDougal swiped at her husband. "She's growing up. Ponyboy might have a very odd name, but from what everyone has told me, he seems nice. I can't wait to meet him. And, your daughter seems to love him."

"That's my point, Grace." he groused under his breath.

Neither Mr. or Mrs. McDougal worried about their daughter getting lost in the dark; nor gave the snowfall a second thought. Linda knew every inch of land in Hollis, and Newman could handle any weather. Their main concern, if indeed it was a concern, was that teenage boy who had a liking for their daughter.

And their daughter liking him back.

XXX

"Come on, Newman. Go, boy, go!" Groan. Newman hates snow. He's such a spoiled horse. I got my whip out and gave him a snap, getting his attention again. He upped the pace, heading out along the road to Mrs. Nixon's. Since I didn't have time to change the breast collar from the holiday one with the twenty or so jingle bells on it to the regular leather strapped one, we sounded like Santa's reindeer coming full throttle up the road.

I couldn't fathom what was keeping Ponyboy so late. I hoped everything was okay. Probably called Mrs. Nixon instead of my place. Yeah, that's it. Dad wasn't happy at all with me when Mrs. Nixon spilled the beans about our goodbye kiss at the hospital. I don't know what he thought he was accomplishing by grounding me for a week, I'd already left Ponyboy back in Tulsa. Still, I sulked like he wanted me to, cleaned the house like he told me to, and had barn duty for a month... just as I expected to get.

But, if I could do it all over again, I'd have my lips right back on him... in a heartbeat.

XXX

"Mrs. Nixon, is he here yet?"

"Linda? Hey honey, no... Ponyboy hasn't made it in. You know, the weather's getting pretty bad out there. They may have turned around and gone back to Tulsa, or stopped in a hotel for the night." I looked at her closer. "Gracious, darling, you're covered with snow! Get in here and warm up, I'll call your folks and let them know you made it in. You're staying here tonight or they're coming to get you. Is Newman in the barn?"

"Not yet. I had to find out if he'd shown up first. Be right back!"

"Linda!"

I couldn't catch her before she'd bolted out my door, cheeks and nose rosy from the freezing cold. Looking down where she'd been standing, a puddle had pooled from the melted snow off her boots. I got some towels and spread them out over the entryway, hoping she'd have sense enough to take off her boots when she came back in. Next, I called her parents, who were fine with Linda being here as long as Ponyboy hadn't shown up. I stifled a laugh when I heard Grace call out George's name in protest to his remarks. I hung up just as Alex wandered in from the kitchen.

"Was that Linda?" Crumbs sprayed out with every syllable.

"Alex, honey, you go back in there with those cookies." Sigh. _Douglass, you had nerve to just up and die and leave me with your child to raise... alone! I hope you're laughing up there, cause one day... you and I are gonna have a long talk, buddy!_

I looked at the fire and tossed in another log, watching it blaze up a moment. Footsteps on the porch perked my ears and the door opened again.

"Stop! Take off your boots and leave them on the towel. Coat and scarf too. You can use my slippers if your feet are cold." I took her things and hung them up to dry.

"Has he at least called?"

"No, Linda... he hasn't. I'm sure everything's fine."

"But it's late... he would have called!"

"Now Linda, settle down. We'll call Darry in an hour if he hasn't shown up or phoned by then. Have you had dinner?"

She looked crestfallen. "Yes, thanks. I'm not hungry." Linda turned and went to sit on the couch, looking out over the front yard. I turned on the television, the news was still on, an update of all the closed roads being listed.

As the newscaster droned on, I made a mental map of the roads in my head. So far, they'd listed parts of I 44, route 62 and some of route 9. I sighed._ That's just about every road leading here. There were other routes, but they were way off the beaten path … and if the state DOT couldn't clear I 44, then they certainly wouldn't clear the back roads._ _That's it_, I thought. _Ponyboy isn't coming._

"Linda, I don't think he's gonna make it in. All the roads out of Oklahoma City to here are closed."

She looked crestfallen. _Young teenage love, oh how little you kids know._

"Do you think he'll make it in tomorrow?"

I pushed some hair behind her ear. "I don't know, honey. Now, why don't you go on to bed. Take the guest room. You know where the extra blankets are."

She headed upstairs while I went to the phone. I dialed Darry's number, letting it ring at least ten times before hanging up. Looking over, little brown eyes were staring at me.

"When's Ponyboy coming, momma?"

I scooped her up, carrying her upstairs to get her ready for bed.

"Looks like all the snow is keeping him from getting here. He probably won't get here tonight and I doubt with the weather like it is he'll be able to come at all, honey. Don't you worry though. We'll see him eventually. Now, lets get you into your pajamas and into bed."

Once I had Alex bedded down, I made another pot of coffee and called again. As the phone rang and rang, even I started to get an uneasy feeling in my stomach. Looking out the window, the swirling snow wasn't letting up. I shook my head, knowing he had to be in a hotel somewhere. He had to be.

Just... why wasn't he calling to tell me?

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	4. Lasagna

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 4

**Lasagna**

XXX

The lasagna was cold. Michelle set it back in the oven to reheat as I pulled my jeans back on.

"Mind if I use your phone? It's late, but I told them I'd be calling."

"Go ahead," she called back to me. "There's one by the bed or in here. Whatever's your pleasure."

I couldn't help smiling at what my pleasure had been. I grabbed the phone, leaned back against some pillows and dialed. It rang three times before....

"_Hello?"_

"Evening Mrs. Nixon. It's Darry. Sorry for the lateness of the call. May I speak with Sodapop please?"

"_Um, Darry.... gosh, I don't know what to say.... They're not here. I've been trying to reach you, but there hasn't been an answer at your number."_

"I'm not at home. I've been out with a friend for the afternoon. But they're not there yet?" I sat up and looked at my watch, tapping the crystal in case it was a mistake. They should have been there hours ago. "Did they call? Say they'd be late or something?"

"_No. I had hoped to hear from them by now. Have you been listening to the news?"_

"The news? No. Why?" The last thing on my mind for the last few hours had been the news. All that was ever on was that disaster in Vietnam. Ever since Soda's accident, even hearing it on the news made me sick.

"_Why? Most of the roads have been shut down due to the storm. Everything west of the capitol is at a standstill. It's headed your way but might stall out before hitting Tulsa. I figured they had either turned around or found a hotel."_

I winced, knowing I should have stayed home. "I'll make some phone calls, see if I can't hunt them down. If you hear anything, could you call me? I'll head home here in a few minutes."

"_Sure, Darry. I'm sure they're fine. Still, I'll call your house in the morning. See if we can't find where they're spending the night."_

I hung up and dialed another number. It rang a few times, then Mr. Randle answered. I hated talking to him. His mood was never predictable, and he was seldom cordial.

"_Yeah?"_

"Mr. Randle. Sorry to bother you, sir. Is Steve there?"

"_Who the hell is this?"_

"Darrel Curtis. I need to talk to Steve. It's important."

"_Important, huh? Right. Hold on... Steven! Phone!" _I held my ear away, he didn't even try to muffle his shout. I switched ears, the left one still ringing.

"_Hello?"_

Lord, I hoped he wasn't drunk. "Steve, it's Darry. Has Soda or Ponyboy gotten in touch with you this afternoon?"

"_Darry? Ain't you out on a date? Whacha worried about …."_

"Steve! Have they called?"

"_No, Dar. They ain't called here. Course, I ain't been home all afternoon. Got in maybe two hours ago. Have you tried Two-Bit?"_

I sighed. "Not yet. I figured if Soda was gonna call, he'd call you if he couldn't get me. I'll try there next. Thanks."

"_Something wrong?"_

I hesitated. I was being my typical pessimistic self when it came to those two. More than likely, they were hunkered down in some hotel room wearing only their underwear with take out in front of them, watching something stupid on the TV. "Don't know. Probably not. Just call me if they get in touch with you. I'm headed home in a few minutes." I hung up, knowing courtesy could wait. I gave it two seconds then called Two-Bit.

"_Hello?"_

"Hey Karen. Is Two-Bit home?"

"_Nope. He's out with Cynthia."_

Silence as I forced myself to cool it.

"_You wanna talk to ma?"_

"Sure. Thanks."

Muffled noises, then Mrs. Mathews was on the phone. _"Hello?"_

"Mrs. Mathews, sorry to bother you. Darrel Curtis here. Have my brothers - by chance - called your house today?"

"_No, Darry they haven't."_

I hadn't realized I was whacking the wall with my fist. Michelle was in the doorway, looking concerned.

"Thanks, Mrs. Mathews. I'd better go. If they should call, could you let me know? I'd appreciate it."

I hung up the phone, rubbing my eyes as to what to do. They had the truck, I had no wheels. And with the roads closed, they could be anywhere. Like sitting in a hotel, laughing at something Barney Fife was doing to Andy on the TV; or …. I didn't want to go there. I refused to let my thoughts wander in that direction. At least, not yet. Whatever had happened, I had to go home. I worried better there.

"What is it?" she asked, looking at me carefully.

"They never made it. The road's closed - massive snow storm. They didn't call Mrs. Nixon – the woman who was expecting them; and they haven't gotten in touch with anyone here either. I gotta get home." I got up and found my shirt, sliding it on.

"I'll drive you." She went and got dressed. I flipped the oven off, grabbed our coats and together we headed out toward my place, a few snow flakes falling along the way. I was too busy worrying, allowing my persistently pessimistic parental side to surface rather than enjoying the peace of the night and the woman at my side. Lordy have mercy, I couldn't even think straight.

"Darry, don't worry," she insisted, squeezing my hand tighter. I looked at her. "The phone lines might be down and they simply can't call. Besides, Soda's a good driver, right? He's a mechanic too. It isn't like he won't be able to fix whatever might have gone wrong... if anything _had_ gone wrong."

"Right." Essentially, I hadn't heard a word she'd just said. I needed to think … I needed ... a _map_. The only one I knew of was in the truck, until I remembered proofing something for Ponyboy about the Trail of Tears and the Cherokee Indians. At the time, I'd given him hell and high water for all the overly detailed drama he'd inserted. Now I was grateful for it. Once I got home, I went straight to his desk, searching it quickly until I found the old report and pulled it out of the protective sleeve he'd slid it into. Enclosed with all his notes was an old road map of Oklahoma - lifted, I think, from the DX courtesy of its employees. Once at the table, I opened it up and ran my finger down the route Soda was supposed to have taken.

All the roads that Soda could have been on were closed. And since I had no idea where he'd have turned around at or what alternate route he'd have tried; the possibilities were endless. I simply had to hope they were hunkered down in a hotel for the night. In the morning, I'd borrow a set of wheels from Tim and somehow get Steve and Two-Bit to help as well.

XXX

The teenager sat hunched in the borrowed bed, looking out into the night as swirls of snow came down. One floor below her, she heard Mrs. Nixon still pattering around the house; but the bundle of unsettled nerves kept her from settling down and fading to sleep. She knew something was wrong. She could feel it. Ponyboy would have called, he _would_ have... no matter if he had turned around and headed back home or was stranded in a hotel – he wasn't the type to make people worry. Trouble followed him like a shadow it seemed, sure; but he wouldn't intentionally make it worse.

Fog had taken over the window pane again, so she wiped it with her sleeve until a small circle allowed her to see out into the darkness. There she sat, worry filling her mind until the nervous energy demanded an outlet, and she hatched a plan. She knew the roads that had been closed, knew the road Ponyboy should have taken and knew the alternates that could have been used. Plotting them out in her mind, she chose the one that seemed the most logical. Afterall, there really weren't that many routes, they were just long in the undertaking.

Another hour passed before the house was still. Mrs. Nixon had gone on to sleep, thinking to herself that nothing could be _that _wrong. In the morning, a few simple phone calls would be made and both Curtis brothers would be located - probably in a hotel somewhere along the way.

But Linda wasn't convinced, and being the impulsive teenager that she is, she was determined to act on her intuition. Outside the window, the snowfall had slowed and the barn could be seen. Just inside the entrance, bathed in moonlight, stood Casper and Newman - as if waiting and wondering themselves.

And, with a stubbornness that would make even Ponyboy envious, Linda got up, dressed as warmly as she could, and snuck outside without anyone noticing.

The horses whinnied as she came up.

"Shh guys, you wanna get me busted or something?"

Casper nudged her with his head. "Come on. I ain't waiting around here either. If Pony won't go to the horse, then the horse will go to Pony. You too, Newman, let's go." She saddled both horses, leaving their cold weather wraps on them as well. In short order, she was ready to go. She climbed on Newman and took Casper's reins, gave Newman a slight kick and the three were off, heading down the main road out towards the dark deserted highway.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	5. Dim Lights

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 5

**Dim Lights**

XXX

"SODA!" I shrieked, officially scared out of my mind. I couldn't really move, since every time I leaned toward the opened driver's door, the truck swayed and dipped. Considering the motion, I guessed we'd come to a stop cater-cornered on something, the front wheel hanging off into nothing. But how far down was that nothing? "SO-DA-POP!"

Common sense refused to kick in and remind me of my own states' topography. My head didn't remember that for the most part, Oklahoma was flat. I only pictured the truck - with me in it - about to plunge off some new abyss that the surveyors somehow conveniently missed. Needless to say, I don't think too straight when I panic.

Not only that, suddenly not having Soda in the cab with me had catapulted me into a new realm of fear. Responding to the sway of the truck, I jumped back into my corner; my fingers tearing at my door as I searched for the handle. I finally found the latch and popped it open, but as I swung my legs out - shadows moved nearby, scaring the bejesus out of me once more as I screeched again. Stupid. Wild. Imagination.

Soda laughed, sort of.

"Hey, Pone," he said with weakened humor, his hand rubbing his forehead. "Do me a favor and stop screaming. I'm fine."

I grabbed onto him with shaky hands nonetheless. "What the hell happened?" I demanded.

"Black ice, I guess," he said as he first hugged me back then let go. "We skidded. Wild ride, huh? From what I can tell, the truck's still in one piece, but we ain't gonna get out of this ditch unless we get pulled out. And any forward motion's gonna tip us right over into it completely. Darry's gonna have a friggin field day with me. Glory hallelujah!"

I looked him over but aside from the goose egg on his forehead, didn't see anything busted. He was wet though, his shirt and jeans were unmistakeably soaked.

"You fall in the ditch?"

He grinned. "Nope, got thrown into it. I'm cold, but I'm fine. You?"

"Oh yeah, I'm great! I'm used to being tossed around ass over teakettle when I'm riding shotgun with you." I tried to be angry, as upset as I was, but it wasn't coming over very well. I was shaking now, but I wouldn't admit it was from something other than the cold. I wasn't hurt, but being scared to half to death does leave it's own mark.

"Cute, Ponyboy. Now, get back in the truck before you freeze."

"But Soda, you just said it'll tip!"

"Yeah well, considering I haven't seen any houses or stores in a long while, I don't guess there's anywhere we can walk to, and I ain't got a hankering to wait out in this weather either. Besides, it ain't gonna tip unless you scooch all the way over into the driver's seat. Now get in there."

Admittedly, I didn't want to; but I carefully got back inside, sitting so close to the edge of the seat half my rump was hanging off.

"Well, now what?"

He sighed, rubbed his face to hide the chattering his teeth were doing then grabbed his bag from the bed of the truck. There in the middle of the street in the freezing cold and snow, he stripped down out of his wet clothes to put on something dry. He pulled on not just his sweat pants he used to sleep in, but another pair of jeans as well. He layered down the same way with his shirts, then opened the door and handed me my own bag.

"Layer up. It's gonna get real cold, real quick."

I stared at him for a moment, grumbling to myself at how now that I was _in, _he wanted me to get _out_ again. I hesitated telling him "no" a second longer than he liked, cause the next words out of his mouth were more an order than a request.

"Come on, Ponyboy; _layer up_! I'm freezing out here!"

I slid out and pulled on my own sweats, fumbling in the dark for my stuff. When I was done putting on every stitch I could, I looked at him.

"Okay, what's the _next _part of your plan?"

"Get back in and scoot over. Carefully," he insisted.

"Are you insane?" I was wondering how bad a hit to the head he'd taken.

"You weigh less, Ponyboy, and I ain't itching to freeze out here. Just go slow... _really _slow. I'll counterbalance the weight. We ain't gonna tip."

I stared. He had to be kidding! However, he _wasn't_ kidding. He opened the door and stood on the door frame's ledge, while I carefully inched over. Finally, he could climb in next to me and shut the door again. I gave the drivers side a wide berth, feeling the sway of the truck and the creak of the three remaining tires under us. When we were both in and had gotten still, Soda swung an arm over me, rubbing my arms to warm me up - maybe also to keep me from moving over any more.

"You remember this from school? This counterbalancing stuff?" I asked in awe. There was some stuff in science about it, but I never really saw a practical application for it until now.

He smirked. "Nope. Well, maybe. Shop. Lifting engines out of cars requires a lot of balance know-how. It really ain't a big deal. Now, reach over and flip the lights on. I can't start the engine to heat the cab ... I don't know if the gas tank's damaged, but at least if somebody's in the area, the lights might flag them down. Now, go to sleep, and try not to move."

Yeah, sweet dreams to you too.

XXX

Casper and - surprisingly - Newman seemed to be enjoying everything. The snow, the cold and the dark were right up their alley. If given their lead, they'd take off galloping into it; but Linda had already decided her master plan was a major bust. She was cold. Exhaustively cold. Painfully cold. Despite the thick gloves she had on, her hands had long ago lost feeling. To make matters worse, in spite of the scarf and winter hat that covered just about every inch of skin above her collar bone, she was frigid. Her own thick coat helped, but the winds blew straight at her; forcing her to turn her head away from the storm and blinding her as to the direction she was taking.

Not that it really mattered, she knew she was no longer leading the horses anyway. Nearly two hours into this horrible mistake and it was all she could do to rein in Newman when his pace picked up and hold onto the horn to stay in the saddle. They continued at a steady pace, Newman's jingling bells being their only entertainment as they cantered out into the wintery night in the direction they'd been pointed to go. They were horses, they had no idea their lone rider was slowly going hypothermic. She wrapped Casper's reins around Newman's saddle horn so at least they wouldn't separate, and finally ducked her head into her chest, giving up all control for a while to the better adapted animals.

XXX

"Damn, there goes the battery." Soda mumbled as the lights dimmed worse. As the shadows from the interior faded, the only thing really visible was the rhythmical cloud of breath that escaped our lips every few seconds. I hadn't slept, neither had Soda. We'd talked for a long while, then gradually the conversations grew silent as the temperature continued to fall.

"Uh, now what?" I asked, not so sure myself. Soda grimaced, shaking his head.

"I got some flares, but they ain't gonna be very useful. They may not even light in this weather. And even if they did, they won't stay lit for any longer than a half hour – if that."

Despite the warm gloves Darry'd gotten me for Christmas, my hands were still cold. I didn't know how Soda was coping with it, I was sure his hands had to be frozen despite going through his bag again and pulling socks over his long fingers.

"You tell anyone about this and I'll deny it," he warned as he shoved his sock covered hands under his legs for any extra heat.

"I'll never tell a soul." I answered. "You want to wear my gloves for a while?"

"Nah, I'm good. At least you can attest to the thermal lining now, huh?"

"Yeah. I've always wondered if they really worked at minus ten."

He laughed. "It ain't _that _cold, Pone. But, are they? Warm … I mean?"

"I wouldn't exactly say I was warm, but I ain't frostbit. How're those socks holding up?"

"No worries, kiddo. I'm all toasty."

We both laughed. It was obvious we were both freezing, our teeth were chattering and we each had shivering fits every now and then.

"You think anyone's gonna find us?"

Soda looked at me, his smile still present. "Sure they will - in the morning. Don't worry, I ain't gonna let you freeze." He pulled me closer to him and I could only hope he'd be right.

"I'm already frozen." I thought about what was probably going on back home and grinned. "Well, at least Darry ain't gonna be bothered by us for at least one weekend of his life. Hope he's having a good evening. I'd bet you he's got the fireplace roaring and made his famous chili like he does when the weather gets this bad."

Soda chuckled. "C'mon, Pone, don't make me suffer over here anymore than I have to."

"Suffer? What'd I say?"

He looked at me. "Chili? Fireplace? I'm pretty sure ol' Darry's having a great time, but not for the reasons you're thinking of."

"Oh yeah? What's your idea then? What do you think Darry's doing?"

He gave me a very funny look and laughed. "C'mon Pone, think! You and I are both out of the house … Michelle ain't working … you ain't that dense. Put two and two together and then tell me what he's doing."

"Oh, _that_." I keep forgetting Darry was dating again, and while I was happy for him, it still left me feeling very unsettled. Soda could talk for hours about his … adventures, Two-Bit could write novels considering how much experience he had. None of that phased me a bit. But Darry? It was still something I wasn't used to. Granted, I knew it happened; but to me, he was, I dunno, too parental … and parents just … well they _did -_ not that I'd ever heard Mom and Dad ... but …. Man, even thinking about it had me screwed up.

"Yep... that. More than likely, anyway."

I stayed silent as knowledge of what Soda was talking about fed images of Darry and Michelle to my brain. I really didn't need this. Darry was by far and away no innocent, but I didn't need to know of his conquests as they were happening. Or presumably happening. "Good Lord," I mumbled softly.

Soda chuckled. "One day it'll be your turn, and me and Darry will be worrying ourselves sick about it. And those days are getting closer, now ain't they, kiddo? Hell, Ponyboy... you even told me you and Linda were kissing already. What do you think the next step is, exactly?"

"Do we have to discuss this now? _This_? _Now_?" I hissed, throwing my arms out in embarrassment and frustration. I didn't mean to, but as I moved, the truck shifted and we rocked a bit.

"Sodapop!" I shrieked, grabbing onto him. I was fully aware that if the truck did go down, I was in the middle seat and would just slide right over along with everything else.

He latched one arm around me while the other held onto his door tightly. Once we steadied, he loosened his grip on both but didn't let go.

"Fine, since you're _that_ adamant about it, we can hold off that particular topic." He gave it a minute, letting me settle down before being serious again. "You okay, kiddo?"

I was shaking again, but nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just can't wait for this blessed night to be over with."

"Me too," he agreed a moment later as he finally let me go again. Then, as if to add more misery to our night, the battery gave it's last and died, plummeting us into total darkness. Only the eerie reflection of the moon off the snow gave any hint of what was out there. "Perfect," he said with obvious disdain.

As my breathing went back to normal, the whole situation was somehow comical to me. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Great, now you're going hyperthermic." He snipped.

"You mean _hypo_thermic, and you're still wrong. This is just getting worse and worse, which for some reason is funny."

"Now that needs some explaining," he said with a cocked eyebrow.

I stopped laughing and tried to explain. "You and Darry both... heck, the whole gang really, thinks these things just happen to me... like I ask for them. But I don't. I didn't ask for that tree to hit me last summer, I didn't ask to be forced off a bus to walk across Texas, I didn't ask to get jumped in that alley leaving me blind for a few days. These things just keep happening to me! At least this time I have a witness, provided you don't freeze to death." I was still smiling when that last sentence left my lips, then I stopped laughing and looked sharply at Soda. It would be my luck to have my brother do just that – freeze to death.

My look must have been funny, cause now he was laughing. "You are something, you know that kiddo? You aught to write all this stuff down and turn it into a book or something. Make some dough off it. Just make sure you market it as fiction, cause no one would believe this mess really happens to you."

"Yeah, maybe." That seed of thought would be dealt with later. Right then, I was too cold. "Darry's really gonna be pissed when he finds out what happened to the truck. How much does it cost to get a wrecker out and tow us to town?"

He shrugged. "Don't know out here. At the DX, we charge a per mile fee for the pick-up, plus the tow itself. Depending on where the heck we are... this might cost a bit. We'll deal with it later though. Don't worry about the money, Pone. Worst comes to worst, me and Steve will tow it home with our wrecker."

I thought about it for a while, wondering how much more money I was gonna cost Darry. I could go back and play at Rosewood's for a while to make up the cost, but Darry had seemed sort of set that I not go back. Of course, he couldn't see this on the horizon, either.

We had both gotten quiet again, as the cold settled back into our systems. The darkness was spooky, even with Soda there. Too many Alfred Hitchcock movies were playing in my head.

"Hey Soda?" I tried to mask the trepidation in my tone.

"Yeah?"

"Could you, um, could you maybe test one of those flares? Ya know, make sure they work and all"

"You don't test a flare, Ponyboy. Either they work or...."

"...I know," I interrupted. I knew how flares worked, but I needed some form of light somewhere. Even if it was just for a half hour or so. "Just... would you? Please?"

He gave me a look and finally nodded. "Okay, but just one. You'll have to scoot over to my seat as I get out to keep from sending the truck over."

As he eased out, I moved over and watched from the window. He got the sticks out from the box in the truck, scraped off the road until asphalt was clear and lit one. Then he climbed back in. It was a small comfort to see the red glow not far away.

"Thanks," I said, feeling the surge of frigid air as he maneuvered next to me again.

"You're welcome. But for the record, I ain't going back out there, so you better enjoy it while you got it."

I did. I lay my head against his shoulder and watched that little light glow, making a red halo around it on the snowy ground.

"We'll be alright, Pone. Really."

I simply nodded.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	6. Shelter

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 6

**Shelter**

XXX

Linda's mind was in a grumpy fog. Beneath her, Newman kept at his steady pace, Casper keeping easy stride next to him. The horses were naturally better equipped for this kind of weather. Thick skin and strong muscle made the cold nothing more than an annoyance to endure, not suffer from.

Silently, Linda thought evil thoughts of Ponyboy... blaming him for her leaving the warm comforts of Mrs. Nixon's to come out in the middle of the night to search for him. Then, as fast as that thought came, she regretted it... fearing that with Ponyboy's luck, he was probably stuck on some iceberg that managed it's way up from either the Red River or fell out of the sky straight from Lake Altus. He did seem a magnet for the odd bad luck, and … well, to her it was part of his charm; life being such an adventure with him. It was one of the reasons she liked him so much. Strange yet exciting things always seemed to happen either_ to_ or _around_ him. By now, she had swung back to the other side of the pendulum, more worried than aggravated and hoping against hope that he was alright.

Newman jerked a bit, snapping her out of her daze. "What is it, boy? Huh? You anxious to be back in the barn now? Me too, not that it matters. Just a little while longer, then we'll head back." She patted Newman on his neck while noticing Casper pulling back against his reins as well. Something was bothering both horses. Linda looked up and had to blink. Ahead, a faint red glow was dimming. She pulled her scarf down to get a better look and smelled the first whiffs of sulfur.

"What the heck?" She took Casper's reins tighter in her hand, worried he'd pull away and gallop free. She doubted he'd make it back to Mrs. Nixon's, and would never be able to explain how Ponyboy's horse froze to death out here. Not only that, she was sure he'd never forgive her.

Looking closer, she saw a truck perched precariously in a ditch, its front at a steep angle but the bed of the truck weighing it enough to keep it from going over. She gave Newman a nudge, insisting both horses go investigate. If nothing else, at least she could help someone out in this mess.

XXX

"Soda, I don't mean to complain... but this is _not _my idea of a fun way to spend New Years Eve."

"It ain't New Years Eve yet, Pone."

"It's after midnight, ain't it? Technically, it's New Years Eve."

He looked at his watch and rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine. It's a minute after midnight. So, yeah, it's the 31st. But ... it ain't New Years Eve until tonight. We'll be out of here by then."

"We'd better."

He cocked his head and looked at me. "Why? I ain't a good enough date for you? If we were in Times Square, it wouldn't be no different. We'd still be cold and it'd still be night. And we wouldn't have the truck to keep the wind off us."

"No offense, but you ain't exactly my idea of who I wanted to ring in the new year in with."

"And why's that? We've always stayed up to watch the new year come in. You expecting something different?"

"Maybe."

He chuckled. "So Darry was right, you_ were_ planning on a little action New Years eve night, huh? Gonna see if you and she can swap spit for a while?"

A dropout he may be, stupid he is not.

"That's sort of a gross way to put it, Sodapop." I groaned but he only laughed.

"Perhaps, but that's what you were wanting, ain't it... little bro?"

I was glad the darkness was keeping him from seeing how red I had to be. My ears were hot.

"A kiss, if she'd let me." I admitted. To myself, I was hoping for... a little more. Curiosity was killing me.

"Well, don't expect no kiss from me," he laughed as his socked fingers suddenly jabbed my sides. "But I can still tickle you to death!" And through the many layers I had on, his fingers prodded my skin. I giggled and shoved him back, and with all our goofing off the truck lurched again. Feeling the movement, I grabbed onto him yet again as he squeezed me tight and held onto his door once more. Our breathing came in short gasps until we both knew we weren't tipping, then he relented on his hold.

"Tickle me once we're back on four wheels, not three. Okay?" I asked in spurts, the adrenaline rush tapering off.

"Sure." He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes again.

I looked out and around, the stars hadn't moved much it seemed but the darkness was different. Something was moving out there, but I couldn't make out what it was.

"Soda, you see anything out there?"

He opened his eyes and gave a quick look. Throughout the night since we'd come to a stop here, he'd been awake and able to relax, never one to let a little problem like a ditched truck bother him. I, on the other hand, was too cold and, well frankly - scared - to relax like he could.

"No," he said and laid his head back again.

"There, over there. Something's out there. Look again."

"Pony, I'm telling you there's noth...."

He stopped and leaned closer to the windshield, concentrating.

"Told you," I said smugly.

"Stay inside. Lock the door once I leave and don't come out, even if the truck tips over. I mean it, Pone, _don't_ get out. I'll be right back." He reached for the latch and my hand caught his before he opened the door.

"Soda..._no._..." I couldn't help the desperation in my voice. He turned and gave me a grin.

"It's okay, Pone. Relax. I'll be right back."

He slid out and I moved over to lock the door and keep the balance right, and watched with trepidation as my brother left my side again. Why was he doing this? What kind of nut would be out at this time of the night, just riding along out in the middle of nowhere?

I watched as he went out to meet the person, and the further away from me he went, the harder my pulse beat in my temples. It went along with the painful_ thunk, thunk, thunk _in my chest for every second that he was gone.

XXX

"Hey!" I called out as I walked up along the road. I took an unlit flare with me, the only thing I had to use for defense if this person had a mind to hurt or rob me or Pony. I hoped he'd listen to me and keep that door locked.

There was silence as the person came closer. Finally when they were twenty feet or so away, I recognized the chestnut.

"Casper?"

The rider sat taller in the saddle.

"Darry?"

I smiled. Who could possibly mistake me for Darry? Then again, with the multiple layers I had on, the darkness and the hat that I had pulled down as far as it could go … anything was possible. What a riot!

"No, Sodapop. Who are you?"

By now, the rider was right next to me and had swung her leg over to dismount, but was so numb she ended up literally falling off the horse. I tried to catch her but couldn't exactly find anything to grip onto since everything of substance was buried under a thick coat or two, a scarf, hat and at least two layers of her own clothes. We flopped down into the snowy road together.

"Linda. Linda McDougal," she stammered back, her teeth chattering like set of toy wind-up dental teeth. I took her arm and helped her back to her feet.

"_Sodapop!"_

I turned to see Ponyboy running at top speed to my side, fear and anger mixed in his tone. Cute, Ponyboy's gonna rescue me from his nearly frozen girlfriend. At the same time, the sound of steel coming to an uncomfortable rest in the ditch got my attention. The truck had gone over. The only way to get that out now was with a wrecker. I sighed, at least no one was hurt. The horses balked at the sound and I grabbed a set of reins, holding them still as Ponyboy skidded to a halt at my side.

"Linda?" He asked incredulously, looking at her a moment before pulling her into a hug. I felt like such a third wheel as she hugged him back. I suddenly realized this wasn't just some summer crush they had for each other. Me and Darry were gonna have to have a talk, then have a long talk with Pony in the very near future. For right now, though, I doubted they even noticed the cold in the air. "What are you doing out here?"

"Looking for you, you idiot. What happened?"

"We hit some ice, skidded. The storm sort of got us by surprise. But really, what are you doing out here with Casper and Newman? I know your parents didn't just let you do this!"

"No not exactly. See, I went to …."

"Excuse me, kiddies, but it's rather cold out here. Might I suggest we either find shelter or get in the truck." I wouldn't have minded listening in, but my knees were knocking and Linda really didn't look all that stable on her feet either.

Pony looked at the truck. "Oops. Guess I didn't balance the truck right as I jumped out. How we gonna get that out?"

"Wrecker, Pone. It's the only way. I'll deal with it in the morning. Linda, how far is it from your house?"

"Maybe two, three hours. I sorta lost track of time."

Crap. I had no ideas. "We'll have to tie the horses to the truck and hope for the best. Come on, both of you."

"There's always Mr. Conrad's place. It ain't that far."

"Who's Mr. Conrad?" Pony asked.

"Forget that, where is it? How far?"

"Near Mangum. We're not far, less than an hour's ride."

"Saddle up and let's go. I'll get the keys."

I had to go into the ditch to get the keys, grimacing at the state I was leaving the truck in. Darry would have a cow about this, I was sure. However, between Steve and me, we should be able to fix it. When I got back, Pony and Linda were already up on Casper, leaving me with the other horse. He handed me the reins.

"That's Newman. I've ridden him before. He's sturdy but won't hold two riders and Linda's bout frozen."

I saddled up, turned Newman in the direction Linda pointed us into, and gave a slight kick. The horse snorted and I gave Pony a wry look. "You know I haven't ridden much since Mickey Mouse, doncha? You_ do_ remember that?" Last thing I needed was to be given a horse to ride that didn't want me riding him. One torn tendon was enough.

"Leave Newman alone. He's a great horse." Linda stuttered through chattering teeth.

"Awe, that's just Newman's way. He likes to be in charge, ornery horse. You'll be fine." Ponyboy gave Casper the signal and off we went, leaving the road and heading over the field, Linda holding on with her arms around my brother. I had a feeling Pony wasn't suffering from the cold quite as much now.

"So, who is Mr. Conrad?" Ponyboy asked again once we were on the way.

"He owns a good deal of land out here," she stammered, "but only comes out during the cattle season. The rest of the year he lives in California."

"So he won't be home?" I wondered.

"Shouldn't be."

"You know where the key is?" Pony asked.

"No."

"Don't worry about the key. I'll make do." I insisted. If I had to, I'd break a window. I was not going to sit by and watch my brother or Linda freeze to death.

We rode in silence for a while, Linda pointing when we strayed off course. Eventually she wasn't giving directions anymore but I didn't need her to. Electrical poles were leading the way to a house I could just make out in the distance.

"We're here," I called over to Ponyboy. He had one hand on the reins, another on Linda's hands that were wrapped around him. This time, it wasn't so much an embrace but a hold to keep her on.

"Thank God," Pony stammered. I got off and took Linda's arms from around Ponyboy, pulling her off the horse. He followed along as I climbed the porch steps, setting her down on some old chairs by the door. While I was setting her down, he was pounding on the door. Still, as expected, there was no answer.

"Check under the doormat," I suggested. He lifted it up but there was no key. I looked around for a flower pot but there weren't any. Even the ledge was bare. Giving up on doing this via key, I took out my knife and jimmied the lock, getting the door open the old fashioned way. Dallas would have been proud.

"C'mon, Linda, time to warm up." He took her arm and pulled her to her feet, the two of them shuffling inside.

The house wasn't big on the outside, but inside was just right. A large fireplace was against one wall, some chairs and a couch in the living room covered in dusty sheets. Linda lay down on the couch and Pony chivalrously took off his coat to lay over her. Outside, I heard the whinny of the horses.

"Be right back. Pony, see if the flue is open on that fireplace."

"Sure."

The horses hadn't really moved, and I could tell they were cold and tired just like us. However, I couldn't bring them inside and after walking around the house, I couldn't find any out-buildings to stable them in either. The best I could do was hitch them to the side of the house that had the least amount of snow and the least windy, and hope they'd do okay until morning. They seemed okay eating the few tufts of grass poking up and I headed back inside.

XXX

"Hey, you okay?" I asked looking down on her. She opened her eyes and smiled a little, nodding twice.

"Yeah. I can't believe I actually found you."

"No kidding. What were the odds in that happening?" I took her hand in mine, both our hands cold still.

"Don't ask me to do math right now, statistics isn't my strong suite; even when I'm not so cold I can't think.

She shut her eyes but I didn't move. A moment later when I still hadn't moved, she opened them again and laughingly grinned at me.

"What?" she asked quizzically.

"Sorry, I can't help it. How've you been? Aside from nearly freezing to death, I mean."

She scrunched around to sit up more, squeezing my hand back. "I've missed you. I've wondered how you and Soda did after that explosion. Hearing your voice on the phone doesn't exactly tell me what I want to know. Not that I'm complain...."

As much as I wanted to hear her voice, I wanted more to know if her lips still tasted of strawberries - like they had at the fair. The chapstick was different, but the taste still as sweet.

Until Sodapop came back in.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	7. Talking With Michelle

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 7

**Talking With Michelle**

A/N Another PG 13 moment coming up. You've been warned. It ain't that bad, though.

XXX

"Is the flue open?" Soda nearly shouted as the door opened, stepping back inside.

I bolted up and went to the fireplace, looking up into the blackness before sticking my hand into the unknown. I'd hate to mistakenly find a nest full of hibernating hornets. I didn't see any and popped the cover open.

"Yeah. Got it. But uh, we ain't exactly got any firewood. Was there any outside?"

"Didn't see any. Besides, it wouldn't burn anyway, it'd all be too wet."

"I doubt you'll find any." Linda softly said, burrowing under my coat more. "Like I said, Mr. Conrad doesn't winter here. He likes it in California."

"Figures. Why build a fireplace if you ain't gonna use it?" I groaned, looking at the useless firebox. Granted, it was much warmer in here than it was outside, but it was still so cold I could see the fog of my breath when I spoke.

All the utilities were off, even the phone disconnected and the tap dry. All we had was shelter; not that I was ungrateful for that, but it was disparaging to know we'd come so far to still be so cold. Soda obviously felt the same way, as he suddenly sent his foot through the small table by the couch. It splintered like kindling into pieces.

"_Now_ we have firewood. I'll look in the kitchen for a lighter or match. Pony, put these scraps in the fireplace. I'll get that lit in a few minutes."

I did as told and busted up the matching table on the couch's other side. No sense having one when the mate was going up in smoke. I just hoped this Mr. Conrad was understanding to the plight of a couple of freezing teenagers.

"Found one. Okay guys, pray this works." He lit the wood and played with the shards until they caught. In no time, it was going. It wasn't rip roaring, but it was better than nothing. It felt good to have a little warmth in the room.

I looked around, the room glowing with the light from the fireplace. Linda had already gotten up and moved closer to the fire, my coat left behind. I got it and slid it on.

"Where do you think you're going?" Soda asked, watching me.

I picked up the sheets off the furniture.

"Out to check on Casper and Newman. It ain't much, but it might help."

He gave me a strong glance. "The horses are fine, Ponyboy. I tied them up on the back side of the house - the wind's less strong there and there were some patches of grass for them to eat. It's the best any of us can do."

"I still wanna check on them. I won't be long. I promise, Soda. I'll be right back."

"Fine," he said shaking his head. He knows how stubborn I could be. "But no more than ten minutes. Hurry back."

"I will. Thanks."

"Ponyboy," Linda called out as I opened the door, "there's some carrots in Newman's saddle bag."

I smiled, knowing if Casper knew there were carrots around, he'd have eaten them already. I slid out the door with the sheets and found the horses standing still next to each other, using each other as a windbreak.

"Hey guys. Sorry bout the cold. We'll get you both back to Mrs. Nixon's tomorrow, with extra oats for each of you." I took their saddles off, wrapped the sheets over them, tucked in the ends as best I could then re-saddled them. Finally I gave them the carrots Linda had brought and went back inside.

"Hey. You hungry? I found some soup cans in the kitchen and opened them, heated them up the old fashioned way, like we used to when we camped out as kids. 'Member?"

I noticed the simmering soup in the quart pan on the hearth. "It's a little late, doncha think?" I asked as I settled onto the other half of the couch. Linda had reclaimed her spot on the couch and looked to already be asleep, her arms crossed tightly over her as if she were still freezing. Made sense, she was out in it the longest and would probably take the longest to thaw out. I put my coat back over her and gave her more than a second glance as I sat down on the long couch's other side. I wondered briefly what she dreamed about.

"Hey, I'm starved." Soda garbled out, shoving in another spoonful as soon as he could. I had to admit I was hungry too, my stomach grumbling as if to prove that point; but hunger was competing with exhaustion now that I was semi-warm and laying down. Compared to the arctic blast outside, the inside was downright cozy. Okay, it wasn't _that_ warm, but it was bearable. At least the chill was slowly leaving the room, and with it my ability to fight sleep.

I was going to tell him I'd wait until morning to eat and to save me some, but I wasn't sure that's exactly what came out. My body gave up and my brain shut down. I heard Soda chuckle as he put something warm over me. Sleep beckoned and I had no choice but to answer.

XXX

"Hello? Is this the Maize Inn? I'm looking for my brothers who may have checked in tonight. Sodapop Curtis?"

I waited for the A) laughter or B) pause and ensuing hang-up that had followed the last two hotels I'd already tried. Thanks to the operator, I'd managed to get a few hotel phone numbers that dotted the highway out toward Hollis. It was a shot in the dark, one Michelle had already told me wouldn't pan out to anything, but I had to try something. However, no one was taking me seriously thanks to my parents ingenious sense of humor.

"_Look buddy, you wanna play games – do it on a day when I ain't got two feet of snow piled up in my lot. You wanna sodapop, go to the store." Click._

I sat the phone back on the cradle and stared at it, feeling hopelessly lost. Michelle brought me a fresh cup of coffee.

"If they were in a hotel, they'd have called," she gently reminded me, rubbing my tense shoulders. Her touch wasn't Soda's but it did make me relax some. I knew they would have called, but I was reaching for straws while hoping I'd actually pull the short stick and find them. I don't know why - it'd never worked before, why would it now?

"So if they aren't in a hotel, where are they? Stuck out in_ that_ mess on the side of the road?" I gestured toward the television, the image on the screen not helping. I'd turned the volume down so I couldn't hear it, but the picture wasn't pretty. Cars had slid into one another like bumper cars at the fair. Then the weatherman came back on with a crude map of Oklahoma, showing a line of snow covering everything west of Oklahoma City slowly creeping towards Tulsa.

I didn't want to add in what I felt, that knowing both my truck and the driver like I do, it was a combination for disaster. Bald tires coupled with a temperamental heater were just the beginning. Everything else I thought of flat out made me sick. They could have flipped over in a ditch or skidded off an overpass - since Soda never slows down when he comes to bridges. He loves to feel his stomach jump when he hits the bottom of the bridge, but despite all my harping at him, he still does it.

I'd tried reminding him once that we'd already lost two valuable members of our family to an auto accident, but he'd given me that taken aback look and added in ...

"_They were killed by a train, Darry, when the cross-bars failed to come down. That wasn't Dad being reckless, it was an accident."_

I had no come-back to that, except to say again and again he needed to slow down. He'd simply chuck me on my arm and trot off, my pleas for caution taken like a grain of salt.

"I don't know where they are, but worrying about them like this won't help. Soda's smart, he won't let anything happen to Ponyboy. You know that." She got up and turned off the set, flipped off the lights and took my hand, tugging to get me off the couch. I sighed and dropped my pencil, letting her lead me down the hall to my bedroom.

Worry still clouded my thoughts. My eyes locked on the ceiling as we lay in bed, my mind routing the way Soda would have gone based on the roads and the closings. All I could see despite her soft fingers trailing in random patterns across my chest was the truck stalled out on some deserted highway; both my brothers in trouble. Eventually, I heard her sigh as she snuggled close and lay her arm across me, my chest becoming her pillow.

"They're going to be fine. You'll see. Try to sleep." She pulled my chin toward her and kissed me, a longing kiss that begged for more, but I couldn't. Not now. Not when I didn't know. I rubbed her bare shoulder, it was the best I could offer.

XXX

"Hello! Anyone home?"

I groaned and looked at my watch, it was nearly seven. I'd overslept, hoping to get up, showered and on the way to Tim's to borrow some wheels by now. Feeling the warmth next to me, I looked over and smiled. Michelle must have turned during the night, now facing away from me with the sheets and blankets all in disarray. Her back was bare, a small sliver of flesh exposed her all the way from her neck to the roundness of her bottom. I had to admit, the view made me forget my troubles for just a moment.

But_ only_ a moment.

"Darry? Hey Superman, you awake? It's a winter wonderland out there, you gotta see it!" Heavy boots thundered down the hall, giving Michelle enough time to wake, turn, and cover up a little better. My door suddenly banged open, Two-Bit standing there undergoing such an immediate change in expression I doubted even Ponyboy could have described them all.

"Christ Almighty, sorry Michelle. Uh, Darry. I, uh, well... you kiddies have fun!"

He stammered and tripped over his words about as badly as he tripped over any and every obstacle in his path leading out of my house. I heard him bounce off the closet door, run into the dining room table, and jar the coffee table before the main door slammed shut and the subsequent whack of the screen door against its frame. Once again my house was silent.

"Strange alarm clock you have. I guess it's time to get up." she said, laughing. I had to grin too. Then I reached over and took Michelle's face in hand and tenderly kissed her lips.

"Well, where were _you_ last night?" she teased as she settled back down.

"Oh, I was here. Lost in my thoughts." After worrying most of the night, my concern had dissipated. In the last few hours – when I wasn't sleeping - I'd gone over every scenario I could think of. The only thing that made sense – aside from them both being dead in a ditch, was that Sodapop knew I was with Michelle and wouldn't bother me unless it was vital. It was a new morning, the last morning of the year, and we as a family had managed to survive much worse than whatever this was. They were probably fine and would laugh at me for being so uptight again, spoiling my time with Michelle with thoughts of them.

"You're probably right. They're just hanging out in a hotel somewhere, not bothering to call me. I'm pretty sure Sodapop knew you'd be here and he knows not to bother me unless it's an emergency. Unlike my idiot friends. Sorry bout him." I nibbled her neck and softly planted kisses from her jawline down to the dip in her throat.

"Him who? You're all I see," she said huskily as her hands toyed with my chest. A few kisses more and her hands explored other territory. Time, the truck, my brothers ...even Two-Bit's intrusion were all forgotten for a while.

When I did make it out of bed and glanced out my window, the world was covered in white. A thick blanket of snow covered everything.

"Damn!" I groaned as I let the blinds back down.

"What?" Michelle asked, pulling the sheets around her, her skin still glowing.

"He wasn't kidding. Everything's covered! I might not be able to get out of my driveway, let alone the city! _Now_ how an I gonna find them?" Even though I had let go of the dread, I still had the worry.

"Call that lady and see if they've shown up." She got out of bed and looked around. "Mind if I use your shower, or is that a 'guys only' area?" I didn't miss the tease in her tone.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, is the seat permanently up and is there a shower curtain?"

"What do you take me for? A neanderthal? Of course there's a shower curtain. I make no promises about the seat though."

She smiled and headed down the hallway, a towel being her only drape. A few moments later, I heard the water running and pulled on my jeans to head to the kitchen, dialing Mrs. Nixon's number.

"_Hello?_"

I didn't miss the panicked tone that two syllable word held. Only a parent … and maybe a guardian, could create such worry in one word.

"I take it they aren't there yet."

"_Darrel? No son. They aren't here."_ She sounded more worried than I expected. I knew she cared for Ponyboy, but I hadn't heard her be this concerned for him before.

"What is it? What's happened?"

"_Nothing, Darrel. It's probably nothing. Nothing for you to worry about anyway. Just... Linda's disappeared. She was here last night, came over - I'm sure - to see Ponyboy. The snow was coming in hard and I didn't want her out riding in it back to her house, so I had her stay here. Only now, she's gone! Her horse too. I hope she didn't try to make it back to her house. It just doesn't make sense.... I told her to stay! I've already called Robert – you remember him, don't you? Anyway, as soon as he can get the chains on his tires, he's coming over. And her parents.... good Lord...."_

"... Mrs. Nixon, hold on, you say her horse is gone?" I had to interrupt. She was like any other frantic mother... talking nonstop as she tried to figure out what had happened.

_"What? Her horse? Yes, Newman is gone from the barn. I already went to check."_

"Did you see which way he went?"

"_Darrel, honey... with all the activity in the barn, there's no telling. The horses are free to enter and leave it on their own."_

"I meant, were there any tracks outside of the paddock?"

"_I have no idea." _

I could hear the plaintive desperation in her tone. I only had one more question. "Did you check to see if Casper was still there too?"

"_Casper? Why would he be gone?"_

Obviously having a young daughter hadn't taught her to think like a teenager yet. I didn't realize it, but I was strangling the phone cord. "Mrs. Nixon, please.. do me a favor and go see if Casper is there. I can hang on or call you back in a few minutes."

"_No, I'll call you back." _

She hung up and Michelle came into the kitchen, wearing one of my sweat shirts and her jeans. I couldn't help but think the shirt looked better on her than it ever had on me.

"Are they there?"

I shook my head. "No. And now, Linda's missing. Her horse too. I have a sneaking suspicion Casper is going to be gone as well."

"Now, I remember you telling me who Linda was.... Ponyboy's girlfriend; but who is Casper?"

"Jeeze, don't call her that. He's not old enough for a girlfriend." I shook my head at the mere thought.

Michelle laughed, making me grin and turn red a bit. "Stop it, he's not!"

"Darry, he's plenty old enough!"

"Look," I said with determined grit to my tone, "I will decide when he's old enough, and right now, he's not. And that's final!"

"You can be so stubborn at times! I swear; and you think your brother has the market cornered on being obstinate! _You_, Darrel Curtis, can be just as pigheaded!"

At this point, she was out-right laughing at me. I'd had enough and pulled her to me, kissing her into submission. I. Was NOT. Pigheaded. When I let her go, she bit her lip, running her tongue over them. "Then again, being pigheaded isn't always so bad. Now, who's Casper?"

Oh yeah, back to that. I let her go and poured some coffee. "Casper is Ponyboy's horse that Mrs. Nixon gave him on his last birthday."

"Wow, a horse. How'd he end up so lucky?"

I rolled my eyes thinking back all those months ago. "It's a long story, but he was sent to stay with her last summer when the tornado damaged my house. She was really good to him, and by the summer's end had asked her to keep custody if the court didn't return him to me." I left out the whole debacle of my giving him a choice in the matter, still feeling like a heel for it. "Anyway, she gave him a lifelong invite back to her place, which he seems to want to take advantage of every second he's out of school ... and along with the deal came a horse and apparently … Linda."

"You make it sound like she's a pariah. Really, what's so bad about her? Is she ugly?" Michelle was laughing at me now.

I gave her a look. "Michelle, I'm way too old to be judging looks of young teenage..."

"Is. She. Ugly?" Michelle pressed.

"No, I guess not."

"Is she dumb?"

"I have no idea what her grades...."

Michelle rolled her eyes. "Fine, does she seem stupid?"

"No, not really."

"Does Ponyboy genuinely like being with her, or is he just using her for....."

"Don't say it. God, he'd better not be. And before you ask again, yes... they get along very well. But still, he's too young to have a girlfriend!"

She laughed. "I think you're a little late there, bub, to make that call."

I winced, no words coming in time to save me from this.

"Could it be that you just don't like the fact that your little brother is fifteen and growing up?"

Groan. I hated this discussion, knowing I wasn't going to win. What was it about women and their ability to turn every argument in their favor?

"They might like to talk and ride horses, but really, I don't think they have that much in common. He's quiet, reserved. Likes to read, draw, play the piano. He's smart...."

"And she brings out the smile in him," she interrupted, sitting on the counter like Steve always does, "... doesn't she? Do his eyes light up when they talk?"

I had to look at the floor, knowing she was right. "That doesn't mean she's right for_ him_."

"Heaven's Darry... they're not walking down the aisle with church bells ringing! They're kids! Teenagers! Relax! Even_ if_ Linda and Pony are together, you sent Sodapop with him; what could happen?"

I was going to say more but the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"_You're right, Casper is gone too. You don't think....." _

Her voice trailed off, but she knew what I was thinking.

"Is there anyway to tell what direction she headed off in?"

"_No..." _Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Once I get a car, I'll be on my way." I wanted to say something, like … _don't worry_, or.... _we'll find_ _them_, but it wouldn't have been real. We'd both worry, and yeah, they'd all eventually be found; but when? And in what condition? The phone went dead, Mrs. Nixon having hung up. I hadn't paid attention to the end of the call, unaware of any 'goodbye's' were said.

Realizing that joke time was over, Michelle hopped off the counter and dug her keys out of her purse. "Darry, take my car. It's got good traction and has a full tank."

"What about you?" I already knew she had to work and wouldn't be able to come.

"Please stop fretting over me. It's not the first time I've taken the bus. Go on. And good luck."

She gave me a steely look with her eyes, setting them towards a good outcome then pushed me toward the shower. By the time I got out, she was gone. Her keys were on the table along with a thermos of hot coffee and an egg sandwich to eat on the way. Still, I had a phone call to make. I called Steve and told him what had happened. He said he had chains at the station and he'd meet me there.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	8. Saddle Up

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 8

**Saddle Up**

XXX

I watched for a while as Ponyboy and Linda slept. It was sort of comical; I guess I could tease him in private about finally sleeping with a girl, although this was far from the accepted definition. They were each dressed in enough layers to make them both look like small Sumo wrestlers, and each occupied opposite sides of the same piece of furniture. The only parts of them that were touching were their sock covered feet, and I doubted either of them realized it.

After searching for a while in the dark, I'd finally found some blankets in a closet in one of the back bedrooms. If it weren't for the insane cold at that end of the house, I would have insisted either Pony and I, or Linda - obviously by herself, sleep back there. Up here, we at least had the small fireplace for warmth. Worst came to worst, I could honestly tell her parents - and Darry too - that nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. I spread one blanket over each of them then wrapped up in another and lay down in the chair opposite them.

I hated having to bust up some strangers furniture just to get warm, but golly, I couldn't feel my own feet. I knew I would probably have to pay for it later, but hopefully, these country people were forgiving and wouldn't prosecute me for breaking and entering, larceny, and whatever else they could think of.

And as for Darry, I hoped he wasn't worrying himself gray … but knowing him, he probably was. I put the last of the splintered furniture in the fire and gave up for the night. As I settled in and began to relax, I realized how badly my legs were hurting. Horseback riding was a skill I was physically out of tune for. Yeah, I'd ridden Casper before, but not for this long. Not since the days of good ol' Mickey Mouse have I spent that much time on a horse. No since in complaining, I'd be back in the saddle in a few hours – once the sun was up again.

XXX

"So, no word, huh?" I asked as Darry pulled up in a set of wheels definitely not his own. I'd worked on a few Chevy Biscayne's before, but not one this nice.

"Nope. I tried some hotels, but that was a bust."

I slid on the chains just as Two-Bit showed up.

"Sorry bout … well, earlier. Didn't know you and the lady had scheduled some a-_lone_ time."

"Just shut it, Two-Bit. That's my business, not yours."

I had the feeling I was missing something, but knowing Darry's penchant for keeping his personal life "personal", I wasn't about to pry. I liked having him on my side, and pissing him off was not in my best interest. Besides, whatever it was that had Two-Bit acting like a loon, Soda would tell me or Two-Bit would let it slip eventually. Right now, having both junior Curtis's missing was taking precedent. With his history, I halfway expected something weird to happen to the kid – by accident, of course; but Soda _and_ Ponyboy both going AWOL was strange and unsettling.

"Well, if I'da_ known_ you was planning on _entertaining_...." he never got to finish. Darry shoved Two-Bit up against the garage door hard enough to make it rattle, and had his finger planted firmly in the center of Two-Bit's chest. He should have known better - never piss off Darry when either of his brothers are in trouble. It never ends well.

"I said shut up. I'm old enough to not need your permission, and she's of legal age. And if I remember correctly, that was _my_ house with the door_ closed_ that you traipsed on into. So can it, _Keith_."

Ouch. I just kept on with the chains but it sure explained a lot. I was sort of glad. He was needing a little action. With any luck, she'd hang around and be his steady.

"Sorry, man. Really." Two-Bit started but Darry gave him an icy glare and turned away.

"Tires are done." I announced as I stood up. I had another set on my wheels already, with a third in my trunk along with my toolbox – just in case. Hopefully, the truck and its occupants were fine and dandy and just in need of some traction.

"Thanks, Steve. What's the charge?"

"Shut up and lead on." I got in my car and revved the engine while Darry got back in the Biscayne. Darry started out and I pulled up next to Two-Bit, who stood there looking rightfully taken aback.

"You getting in?" I called out.

"You sure he wants me there?"

"Hell, Two-Bit, you know you're wanted. When have we ever done anything without you? You just gotta learn to keep your trap shut!"

He got in and I headed out to follow Darry. If nothing else, at least there wasn't a lot of traffic on the road.

"I was just joking with him, guy to guy like … sure didn't mean to piss him off."

"You just ruffled his feathers a bit. He ain't pissed."

"How can you tell?"

I smiled. "Your jaw's still in one piece, ain't it?"

He had to grin. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Any idea where we're going?"

"All I know is to follow the big guy. Somewhere out there is Sodapop and Ponyboy. He'll find them, eventually."

And as the road stretched out in front of us, I wondered just where they were... and hoped they were alright.

XXX

I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar setting. I was so cramped on the couch, laying the wrong way and wearing way too many layers of clothes. I tried to stretch the aches out before getting up but rammed my foot into something instead. A high pitched _ummph_ got my attention, causing me to sit bolt upright. That was definitely_ not_ Sodapop.

"Linda? Hey, morning!" I'd forgotten she was on the other end of the couch.

She sat up too, seeing as how I must have kicked her awake. She rubbed her leg and looked at me.

"Hey yourself! Is this how you always greet the people who risk their life to save you? Kick them awake?"

"No, sometimes he breathes on you. His breath can be deadly in the morning."

She laughed.

"Funny, Soda." I was more embarrassed than anything. I brush my teeth every night, except for last night … I was too tired and this wasn't exactly the Ramada. "At least I don't smell like diesel."

"Don't knock it, I get paid to smell like that. It's the cologne of choice for mechanics." He flashed that grin and got up, stretched and went to investigate the house again.

"Do the toilets work?" I called out, hoping he'd say yes.

"Nope. It looks like … well, if you gotta go, it'd be out back. Sorry for the crudeness, Linda."

"No, that's fine. I've been camping before."

She may have been camping, but she had turned a shade of pink at the idea of what we were gonna have to do to answer nature's call. Soda knew my habits too well and sent me straight out toward the back of the house to take care of my issues. The horses, at least, seemed to have weathered the storm okay. I patted Casper's neck on the way back inside.

"We'll get going soon, boy." He whinnied and pawed his feet, seemingly ready to go now.

Soda passed me headed out towards a different tree for his own moment and I went back inside.

"How long before we get back?" I asked as I started to shove my things in my bag. I kept two layers of clothing on, knowing I would be cold but any extra layers would make riding just that much more difficult.

"If the horses are strong enough, maybe two hours straight riding. If they're tired it's gonna take longer."

"Do your parents even know you're out here?"

She shook her head. "No. I was supposed to stay at Mrs. Nixon's, but … I couldn't. I know she's probably worrying her head off and furious with me all at the same time."

I couldn't help smiling.

"What are you all grinning about?" she asked indignantly.

"You. Riding out to save little ol' me."

"Ponyboy Curtis, I_ swear_ you are impossible!"

"Yeah, Darry feels the same way. You two ready?" Soda'd come in, grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder.

"Think we should leave a note?" I wondered.

"Yeah, we'd better. This Mr. Conrad's gonna blow a gasket when he see's what I've done to his end tables."

"At least we didn't have to bust the door down." That, I was sure, would have caused more trouble than some busted and burned up tables.

I found some paper and wrote a note, leaving it on the table while Soda repaired the room. I grabbed my bag and followed Linda outside.

"This would be pretty if the situation wasn't so bad," she surmised. And indeed it would be. White glistened off everything like diamonds. Icicles hung off the roof, and in the distance, ice and snow weighing down the branches made them bow down. Red cardinals flittered here and there, easily visible with the contrast. And when we were still, it was like you could hear everything nature was doing for miles around. I slid my hand in hers and she squeezed it back.

And for a moment, all was good in the world. That is, until the first few flakes of whiteness floated past my eyes. The weather was going to worsen; time was not on our side.

"I'd better get Casper." I mumbled, letting her go.

Casper was antsy to go, pawing at the snow and shaking his head as I tightened his cinch and saddled up. Linda gave me her hand and climbed on behind me. Soda was already on Newman, we nodded at each other and together we headed out.

"That way," Linda pointed. Casper took the point and off we went. In my head, I couldn't help hearing the verses to Lydia Child's poem, "_Over the River and Through The Woods." _For the most part, it was exactly what we were doing.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	9. Found, Yet Still Lost

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 9

**Found, Yet Still Lost**

XXX

I had nothing but hours to spend in thought. Behind me, Steve and Dim-Wit were following like a shadow, but at least safely keeping their distance. The roads were for the most part vacant, only an occasional car daring to venture out. None were coming from the southwest, which worried me the most. I was still trying to figure out what I was going to do … stop at every exit and ask? That was just plain out stupid, time consuming and probably fruitless. Keep an eye out for my truck as I drove? The concept of "idiotic" rang loud on that one too. Honestly, I had no idea. They had an hour or two of good road time before the weather got nasty, putting them somewhere past Oklahoma City before I doubt they could have gone any further, but what they did after that, I had only to guess.

XXX

"Any idea when he's gonna stop?"

"Do I look like I can read his mind? I'm following along waiting for any signal of what he's planning. Why? You got any ideas?"

"No, I'm just hungry."

"I swear, Two-Bit," I groaned as I flashed my lights, "you and your stomach!"

Darry pulled off at the next exit and I rolled to the pumps to fill up while Two-Bit headed inside. "How big a tank does that car have?" I called out to Darry as he filled his tank up too. In a way, I was sort of glad Two-Bit's stomach decided to sound off. My car was nearing empty and I'd forgotten how desolate this stretch of highway was.

"I was at a quarter of a tank. Get's pretty good mileage, better than my truck."

I looked around at the snow covered plains. Nothing was recognizable. "Any idea's?"

He looked around and eventually shook his head. "You got any?"

I had one, but it was a long shot and sort of dangerous if things didn't work out. Still.... "There's only two routes. We could split up, each take one. I could take 62 while you take 44. Meet back up where they converge at Chickasha."

"And if you get stuck? Then I'd have to find_ two_ cars. Nope, stick together. Besides, Soda wouldn't take a side road when the highway would be the one the DOT would clear first."

It made sense. Soda may be reckless, but he wasn't stupid when it came to driving. Two-Bit came out with drinks and bags of M&M's just as I was recapping my tank. "I called that Nixon lady. Said they still hadn't shown up. Man, she sure sounds worried."

"As if your mother wouldn't be worried if your sister suddenly went missing?" I shot back at him.

"Karen's got more sense than to wander out into the wilderness in the middle of a snowy night." he retorted.

"Give her a while, let her hormones kick in and then let's see what she does." I bounced back.

"Two-Bit, did she say anything about the sheriff? Is he out looking?" Darry was avoiding the entire teenage drama that seemed so humorously obvious.

"She said she told him about Ponyboy not showing up but didn't say much more. I guess they're out looking."

Darry wasn't happy about Two-Bit's report at all. "Let's get going." he said while distractedly tapping the roof of the Biscayne.

"We'll find them, Darry. We always do. Load up, Two-Bit." I revved the engine again and followed Darry back out onto the highway.

XXX

_Where are you? Where? C'mon, Sodapop... you know better than to disappear like this. It's all fun and games until you get in a jam.... _My thoughts rambled on for miles, worry building up like a volcano just waiting to explode. Then, swirling blue lights ahead in the distance broke the monotony of the drive. _Christ, now what?_

I pulled up by the highway patrolman, who was setting up a 'road closed' sign across the highway.

"Excuse me, sir... how far is the highway closed?"

The patrolman pulled his collar tighter against the cold. "Son, I'm surprised you made it down this far. The highway's closed from here on down close to Norge. There are a few detours, but they're barely passable. You'd be best advised to turn around and go back."

"I understand the risk, but I'm looking for my brothers who're out in this mess somewhere."

"They took this route?"

"I don't know. They were supposed to, but they haven't reached their destination and haven't called either. Is there another way to get to Hollis?"

"Hollis? Hold on, let me get my map. You have a description on their vehicle? I can call it in, see if they've turned up anywhere. We've rescued a bunch of stranded people already along the route."

I gave him the description of my truck and my plates, but he looked at me like I was pulling one over on him when I gave him their names. His unblinking scowl said I was wasting his time.

"Trust me," I said, acknowledging the uniqueness of their monikers. "You aren't the first to give me that look, but I can't help what my folks named them. Could you just check?"

"I'll call it in. Hold on."

"Whats up?" Steve had come over to see what was going on.

"Road's closed. He's checking to see if they've shown up anywhere."

"Must be pretty bad out there if they closed the main road."

The cop came back over and Steve got quiet. "Seems no vehicles matched your truck's description on the highway, and no 'Sodapop's' or 'Ponyboy's' showed up either. Sorry, Mr. Curtis."

"What about another way to Hollis?" Steve asked. The cop pulled out the map and searched it, finally showing it to me.

"It's unlikely, since that road was closed as well, but there's Route 9. We haven't gotten all the barricades up on it yet. It wasn't as badly snowed in, but there's a lot of black ice on it. I have a few officers working their way through it now."

"Look, officer, I have to get to Hollis. How do I do that?"

The cop looked at me as if I were getting on his nerves. I probably was, but unless he had what was left of his family out there possibly freezing to death, he wouldn't understand. The cop looked at the map and shook his head. "Hold on, sir." He left to radio something else in.

"Man, what's the hold up? Santa out there with his reindeer or something?" Two-Bit had shown up, blowing into his hands for warmth as he stood stomping his feet by Steve.

"Cop's trying to figure out how to get us there."

"Best I can offer you," the cop was saying as he came back over, "is to let you go on and take Route 9; but if you skid, there's nothing we can do. Even with your chains, you'll need to go slow. Very slow. Good luck."

"Thanks officer."

He handed me his map and let me pass, Steve and Two-Bit staying behind me. I took the cops advice and went no faster than 30, and at times I had to slow down from that as well. But, persistence paid off. I hadn't seen any cops – I guess they were working it from the other end, but before long, a familiar vehicle loomed in the distance.

And then worry went up more notches than my belt had room for.

XXX

"Oh shit. Steve... you see that?"

"Christ! Yeah, I do. Hey, wait till I get it in park first!"

Two-Bit had leapt out of my car, running and sliding on his feet next to Darry - who'd himself jumped out of his car so fast he'd left the door open. The two of them barely got their feet under them in time to prevent sliding into the ditch where the cab of the truck rested.

"Shit! God … no," Darry stuttered, echoing the sentiments I felt. Darry tried the door but couldn't open it, then cupped his hand to look inside. "They ain't there," he said before moving his hands to his mouth, yelling out into the darkness … "Sodapop? Ponyboy?"

I managed down the steep ditch to peer in, but indeed it was empty. Looking around, I didn't see any signs of either of them. Darry had both hands on his head, fingers interlaced and locked as if surrendering, but that was only a look. I'd only seen that gaze of desperation on him a few times, and it was never good. It took me right back to the moment I realized that Mr. and Mrs. Curtis weren't coming home, and again the morning I'd walked in their house to learn the kid and Johnny had disappeared.

His eyes were scanning the field around the truck like a revolving search light, but there simply wasn't anything out there. No tracks, no signs … nothing, nowhere.

I looked back at the cab. "Glass is all intact. No blood...."

"Just some papers and stuff tossed around..." Two-Bit finished as he also looked in.

I hit Two-Bit hard on the chest.

"Whaddya do that for?" he hissed.

"Cause I _felt_ like it." I seethed back. Besides, I needed something to hit and he was handy. He smirked and shoved me over a foot before rubbing his chest. We both understood.

Two-Bit headed off walking the perimeter around the truck while I bent down and looked under it as best I could - given the snow and slush. On the other side of the truck, I heard the jingle of keys then the passenger door opened. I smelled no fluids and couldn't make out any leaks, and as far as I could tell, it looked in one piece. "I don't see anything wrong mechanically...."

"... Battery's dead …. again," Darry yelled out. "Two-Bit, you got anything?"

I looked over at where he was, maybe ten feet out walking a semi-circle around the truck.

"Nope, nothing. No footprints, no tracks. There may have been something over there, but it's all covered now in fresh snow. Didn't look like foot prints; more like an elephant went through."

"There ain't no wild elephants in Oklahoma, Two-Bit," I countered, shaking my head.

"Maybe deer then?"

I didn't bother answering.

"Truck had a layer of fresh snow on it too. Wherever they went, they've been gone for hours."

The near desperate look Darry was giving off made me cringe.

"Maybe they got a ride? I mean, it was locked up tight, and Soda's keys weren't in the ignition. They could have flagged down someone who couldn't pull them out, but gave them a ride somewhere." For once, Two-Bit made sense.

"God, I hope so." Darry answered. The only flaw with that theory was why didn't they call him once they got somewhere safe? I looked up, the sky was looking ominous and fresh flakes were starting to fall again.

"Darry, they ain't here. Let's go - before the weather gets worse. If we keep going, we might make it to Nixon's before three."

He sighed, worry and dread obvious. "Fine, lets go." He grabbed some paper from his glove box and wrote something down, then got two Pepsi bottles from the Biscayne and locked them in the truck. Finally, he climbed back in his gal's car and slowly headed off toward Hollis again.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	10. Riding In

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 10

**Riding In**

XXX

The horses were handling the snow without much complaint, both Newman and Casper walking along at a decent stride. We weren't really overworking them - last thing I needed, in addition to wrecking Darry's truck, busting into someone's house and setting fire to his furniture; was permanently laming both Linda's and Pony's horses. I had to admit, though, as cold and hungry as I was, I was ready to race them back to Mrs. Nixon's place just for the comforts of civilization.

But, instead of racing, I sat in the saddle and watched the two of them riding along just ahead of me, close enough to keep them in sight, but far enough back not to overhear their conversation. It was obvious they didn't want me hearing, they spoke so low I was surprised they'd even heard each other. Still, she'd laugh and he'd smile, she'd wrapped her arms around him just a bit more than I thought really necessary to prevent falling off, and every now and then he'd turn in the saddle and look at her. That look in his eyes was one I'd never seen before, and I doubt he'd remembered I was tagging along.

XXX

"Your dad grounded you? Even though I was all the way over in_ Tulsa_?" This was news to me, but she didn't seem upset by it.

"Yeah. It's okay though. Not like I was expecting to get out of barn duty anyway."

"But, ain't that already one of your chores? Muck out Newman's stall?"

She was giggling. "Yeah. Stupid, huh?" I had to smile. "And for extra cash, I go to Mrs. Nixon's and do the same thing with her horses. What can I say? Horse manure is my life. Anyway, what did Darry do to you?"

I thought about it. "Ya know, he really hadn't done anything. Said he was gonna lecture me but never got around to it. Soda was pretty bad off back then; we were sort of sidetracked with him and I guess he just forgot."

"You schmuck," she said, whacking my arm softly.

I grinned. "Thanks. But I'm pretty sure he's gonna remember it this time. I won't get out of it."

"What makes you think that?"

I turned and looked at her. "Because, I'm sure Darry's hot on his way to Hollis with Two-Bit and Steve... and maybe a few members of the Oklahoma National Guard by now."

"Why on Earth would he be doing that?"

I chuckled, feeling her hands knotted together around me. "Because, point number one... Soda and I are technically missing. Point number two, _you _are technically missing. Point number three, of all the horses to take, you took Casper and Newman – not that I mind in the least, but that's sort of obvious. Darry is probably the smartest guy I know, he'd have it figured out in two seconds where they – and _you_ – went. Seeing as how he isn't all that keen on you and me being together in the first place, he's probably borrowed or stolen a Sherman Tank to get through the snow to get here."

By now, she was laughing openly and even I had to laugh too. Still, I could picture it in my head – compliments of my stupid imagination - Darry charging over the plains in a tank. One day I would have to draw it, just to remember the hilarity of the vision.

"That's only part of the problem," she giggled. I looked over at her.

"What do you mean?"

"There's _my_ father, too."

"Dear God in heaven! I'm a dead man. I think I'll take the ranting from Darry in the tank - it's better than getting shot at by an upset father. I thought he sort of liked me?"

"He does. Or_ did_. Kissing you slightly changed his perspective."

"Did it, now?" I was gonna lean back and kiss her again, but caught sight of Soda's humorous expression and settled back down.

"How much further?" I wondered.

She looked around. Nothing looked familiar to me, but she seemed to be confident in the landscape. "Maybe thirty minutes. Less than an hour."

"How ya doing, Sodapop?" I called back without looking.

"Fine, Ponyboy. Just fine."

XXX

The house was ahead, I could see the smoke stack puffing out clouds of gray even from this distance. Outside was the sheriff's car, a man I really didn't think I would be seeing again quite this soon. In the paddock were several horses, one pure white – although Soda'd told me she was a gray, I couldn't see the difference. Not that I cared either. They could be purple and it wouldn't matter in the least. I was here for Ponyboy and Sodapop, and prayed they'd shown up in the hours since Two-Bit had last spoken to Mrs. Nixon.

"Finally! I swear, as many times as we've done this trip, it never seems to get shorter!" Two-Bit complained as we piled out of our vehicles and headed for the porch. I ignored him, reaching out to knock but the door opened before I could get there.

"Darry! Heaven's son, it's good to see you again. Two-Bit, Steven... good to see you too. Come on inside and warm up."

Mrs. Nixon held the door open for me and the guys, and as we came in I couldn't ignore the crowd that had gathered. The living room was buzzing with people.

"I know it's been a long while, let me introduce you around again. This is Charlene Horton; her husband, Fred, works at the hospital here in Hollis...." Some woman with gray in her short hair stood and shook my hand then moved away as another woman came forward.

"... and this is Grace McDougal, Linda's mother..."

Crap. I had to meet the parents of Pony's … _girlfriend_ … this way. She looked to be in her late thirties, but had the obvious look of someone sleep deprived. Worry filled her eyes and tiny lines were present at the corners of her mouth. I wondered if I looked anything like that - and I was just days away from only turning 22.

"Mrs. McDougal... I'm sure they're..."

"I know they are." She cut in, not letting me finish. "Linda's a strong girl. She knows her way around or we never would have let her go out so late."

I had no idea what to say to that. A strange silence existed and then I remembered the guys.

"These are my friends, Keith and Steve."

The guys stepped forward and shook her hand. "We'll find them." Steve said carefully. Two-Bit just nodded his head in agreement.

"The sheriff and George, Linda's father, are already out on horseback searching the area." Mrs. Nixon went on. "They should be coming back in soon."

"They went to find Ponyboy," said a small voice. I looked down, peaking out from behind Mrs. Nixon's backside was a brown haired girl I recognized as Alex. Last time I saw her, she was a bit shorter and had a wrap on her wrist.

"Hey there, squirt." Two-Bit had bent down to her level and scruffled her hair. "Don't you worry none... Ol' Ponyboy can't play hide and seek forever. We'll find him."

I had to grin, he definitely had a way with women – no matter what their age. Alex smiled and hugged him, then ran off somewhere else.

"What can we do to help?" I asked as Two-Bit stood back up again.

"There isn't much_ to_ do, really. Everyone's out looking but no one has found anything yet."

"How many is 'everyone'?" Steve asked.

"Besides the sheriff and George, there's Paul and Martin from the volunteer fire department, and Henry from the barber shop."

Charlene piped up, "Henry closed down the shop today as soon as he heard. Ponyboy's such a good boy, it pains us all to hear he's in another …_ predicament_."

A predicament? That's what they were calling the disappearance of three teenagers out in a blizzard? A predicament was not having clean clothes to wear when your brother conveniently forgot it was his turn to do laundry, or running out of milk but not realizing it until the stores were closed. Not the life-threatening conditions that existed outside these four walls. I wanted to roll my eyes - but didn't.

"And it's been years since Henry's closed the shop." Interjected yet another woman. I remembered seeing her before but couldn't remember her name. "Hung a sign right on the front door... 'Closed for emergency. Will re-open tomorrow.'"

"Darry, you remember Melissa? The sheriff is her husband."

Melissa. Cops wife. Got it. Doubted I'd remember it though. "Sure, it's nice that the community is helping, but what can we do?" I hated feeling useless like this. Those were my brothers out there afterall, not just Mrs. McDougal's daughter. I didn't come here simply to stand around.

"You have any other horses?" Two-Bit asked, which I thought was strange. I knew for a fact he wasn't a rider, and I doubted Steve had much riding experience either. And I sure wasn't one to heave-ho into the saddle.

"No. Only a few mares, but I only board them; they aren't mine." The worry was evident in the lines in her face. From upstairs, a ruckus broke out. The squeal of young female voices made us all look. Suddenly, Alex and two girls who looked eerily alike came running down the steps.

"Mama... I see them! Casper and Newman! Over on the road! Look! Look!"

XXX

"Hey, I think I recognize this place."

"You should. It's the back half of Mrs. Nixon's property."

I turned to look at her. "You mean we're finally here?"

She beamed. "Yeah. Finally. If you cut over there," she pointed to a cut-through in the brush, "it'll put us back on the road. We'll be there in a couple of minutes."

"You hear that, Sodapop?" I looked over. He hadn't had much to say the whole way in, but was smiling just the same.

"I heard. Glad too. Hope the phone lines are working, I've got to call Darry ASAP. He's gonna be ticked off with me in more ways than I can imagine, but at least he'll know we're okay."

I hopped the small ditch, Linda holding tight during the process, and watched as Sodapop had Newman cross over as well.

"For two city boys, you both ride pretty well."

"I used to ride, a long time ago. I thought Pony'd told you."

"He did, but it's just sort of hard to keep that mental picture of you riding like this. Does Darry ride?"

Soda laughed.

I never really got to answer her question. The house was ahead, and on the porch were a whole bunch of people. Three stood out more than the others.

"Soda, is that who I think it is?"

He looked up and groaned. "Crap. Yeah, it's Darry. Guess he got the message. Wonder how much he knows?"

"Well, there's only one way to find out. Shall we up the pace? I'm cold."

"Hell, Pone. I've been frozen for at least an hour."

He set Newman into a canter one stride ahead of me, and before we knew it, we were riding up into the yard. I took it all in, I'd missed this place.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	11. New Years, At Last

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 11

**New Year's, At Last**

XXX

The reunion was noisy. The missing trio were none the worse for wear considering their harrowing night; just cold, hungry and tired. Mrs. Nixon – ever the gracious host and seemingly with a kitchen that has hot food on the ready no matter the time of day; was serving hot, homemade chicken stew and fresh biscuits to anyone who sat at the table.

"I take it you saw the truck?" Soda asked sheepishly as he settled down for his second helping.

"Oh, I saw it alright. Anyone get hurt?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I'm a better driver than that."

I raised my eyebrow. "A 'better driver' would've known better than to head off into a blizzard like you did. Hell Soda, I thought you had more sense than that."

He shrugged. "So I ain't perfect. But I did manage to get everyone back safely."

"Man, what is up with these small country towns? Ain't hardly nothing here!" Steve complained as he searched Mrs. Nixon's thin phone book, which more closely resembled a brochure to anything Ma Bell would put out. "Here's one. I hope they're open, it's the only one I see listed." Steve dialed and waited, and I looked around the room.

Linda, having already cleaned up in the downstairs bathroom, was now sitting between her parents - or rather_ imprisoned_ between them – as the group of men and women sat around chatting about the weather, the cost of living, and how Henry had given up a day's wages to help out. Country talk, I guess, but to me it was tantamount to watching some drama Pony'd liked at the cinema. As for Ponyboy, he was in the shower. I'd insisted, since he smelled horribly like a horse and was making my nose curl. Besides, I'd needed to speak privately with Sodapop.

"Where were you guys last night?"

The grin that came over his face concerned me. "I swear, I should have made a bet with Pony about you asking that." He dropped his spoon and looked me in the eye. "Linda knew of a place, we rode there, broke in, and went to sleep. A few hours later we got up, got back on the horses and headed here. Nothing crazy happened. Shoot, nothing boring happened either; we were too tired."

Steve hung up, turned to look at us and knuckled the table. "I finally found a towing service ... Parnell's Towing, they're on the way. I told them we'd meet them there. Soda, you wanna come along and help me with your truck? This is all your fault anyway, you moron. Black ice.... really!"

"Hey, there's a reason it's called 'black ice'. You can't see it until...."

"Save it for later. You coming along or what?" Steve asked as he pulled on his coat.

"Yeah, lets go." He finished his food and took the bowl to the kitchen, grabbed his own coat and headed to the door.

"Just do me one favor..." Steve asked as he shoved an entire biscuit in his mouth. "Stay downwind. You still stink."

Soda right hooked him and grinned, then the two of them headed out, pushing and shoving each other in their usual way. Soda's shower had been brief, but the lingering smell was still in his skin.

"Looks like this young man of yours is more a cat than a boy, Agnes. He's got more lives than anything I've ever seen!" Some guy who's name I'd already forgotten was saying with a thick country accent.

"Hopefully, every visit he makes won't be so chaotic," mused one of the women.

"He's not exactly mine, but I love him just as much anyway. At least everyone is accounted for and no one was hurt." Mrs. Nixon said with a flair.

Down the steps came Ponyboy, right on cue. I watched as his eyes trailed to Linda then quickly blinked and looked away. I went over to him, clapping my hands on his shoulders forcing him to look at me.

"You okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah. It's a rather odd way to end the year though."

I let him go with a chuckle. "Considering the way the year has gone, I'd have to say it's par for course."

"The horses get stabled?" he asked as I directed him into the kitchen.

"One of the men took them to the barn a while ago. I'm sure they're fine. Go eat. Mrs. Nixon's made a pot of stew."

"So I smell less like a horse now?" he ribbed, considering when I first got whiff of him I told him what he'd smelled like.

"Less a horse, more a Pony. Now, go eat!" I ignored his scowl over his name and shoved him toward the table. The people in the living room were getting up with that distinctive _leaving _look to them, and I wanted to express my thanks again for their help. They may be countrified, but they definitely all come together when someones in trouble.

Eventually it was only Linda and her parents left. "So _you_ are Ponyboy? Pleased to meet you – and happy to see you in good health after that long night in the storm. I'm Linda's mom, Grace McDougal."

Pony got up, wiped his hand on his jeans and shook her hand. "Pleasure, Mrs. McDougal." He looked at me nervously (which I thought sort of comical) and finally gestured in my direction. "Have you met my brother? Darry?"

"Yes, we have." Mr. McDougal answered with yet another firm handshake. "Briefly."

By briefly, I guess he meant the few moments we had an hour ago when he, along with all the other members of the search party, returned. Name exchanges and handshakes courtesy of Mrs. Nixon's introductions were all I'd really had with the man.

"Good to see meet you, sir. I hope Ponyboy hasn't caused your family too much trouble since he arrived here last summer."

"Heaven's no." Mrs. McDougal insisted warmly. "Linda's told us about his... unique situation, and I have to say how impressed I am at how you three have endeavored to persevere. Your parents would be proud to know how well you've done since their passing."

What the hell do I say to that? "Thanks."

"Well, I think we've spent enough time here, and surely the kids are tired after their long night. Linda honey, get your things. Time for us to head home. Agnes, we'll pick up the horses later. Ponyboy, glad to see you in one piece. If we don't see you again, have a safe trip back to Tulsa."

"Mom, can I hang back? I'll ride Newman home?"

"No, Linda. Agnes has already agreed to keep our horses here tonight. We'll pick them up tomorrow when the sun comes up. You can have a few minutes while your father warms up the car, but then we have to go. Ponyboy, Happy New Year son. Darry, you too."

I watched Mr. and Mrs. McDougal head out while Linda moseyed over by Ponyboy, the two of them heading to the kitchen alone. I debated following, then decided to let them have their few minutes to themselves. I remembered catching them kissing when he was in the hospital and figured whatever they did couldn't get any worse than that in such a short span of time.

He was a teenager, afterall. Some things were just destined to happen.

XXX

"When are you guys going home?" she whispered.

"Tomorrow." I answered back just as softly. "Provided they get the truck fixed, and knowing the mechanics, it won't be a problem."

She sighed.

"What's wrong?"

"I wish you didn't have to leave."

"Me neither. But I have school and my brothers have their jobs." I knew this would happen from the get-go, and I hated it. "I'd stay if I could."

She looked up at me, a sympathetic smile creasing her lips. "No you wouldn't."

"Why would you say that?" I doubt I hid the disappointment in my tone very well. "You know I like you."

"Liking me has nothing to do with it. I know you wouldn't stay because you've already had this choice tossed at you once before, remember? You chose right, Ponyboy. Then and now. It's still true, you belong with your family."

The painful memories hurt and I shut my eyes tight against them. "That doesn't mean I don't want to spend more time with you," I mumbled.

"Honored. Truly I am. And if given the chance, I'd spend more time with you too. But fate ain't helping us out in that department."

This left me feeling … lost, and a bit panicked. "What are you saying?"

She looked at the table then slid her hand into mine. "That one of us has to move."

"How bout we just invest in bus fair?" I suggested.

"I'll start saving tomorrow," she smiled deviously.

"Linda, honey, time to go." Mrs. McDougal's voice called out. I knew this was my last chance, and wondered what was slipping away. While Mrs. Nixon had Darry cornered, saying 'thank you' again for what had to be the hundredth time, (it's the country way), I stole a moment and kissed her. At first I thought she would push me away, but then she kissed me back - just like she had on the ferris wheel last autumn. It was almost embarrassing how right it felt as her touch made my skin tingle. I pulled her closer and felt electricity when her fingers brushed my....

"Linda?" Her mom called again. Instantly, we let go.

"Yes ma'am. Just getting my coat on." She called back. I felt my face redden at the thought of her hands, her....

"Think that'll tide you over until one of us saves enough for bus fare?" she asked, zipping her coat.

"No, but it'll have to do."

She took my hand and looked at me, close and unblinking.

"Linda!" her mother called again.

"Happy New Year, Ponyboy." And with that, she turned and followed her mother out the door.

XXX

"Battery's dead." I called out after the guy from Parnell's pulled the truck out.

"I can jump it for now," Steve called out, getting the cables from his car. "Get another new one when we get to Hollis."

"I dunno. I'm a little leary of driving it after it's been ditched. I'd rather check it out first... shouldn't take us no longer than an hour." I was worried about the steering and the brakes. Everything else looked okay by glancing at it. We were still a long way from Hollis though if it broke down again.

"I can tow you back to town if you want," said the guy, spitting out a plug of tobacco while Steve and I deliberated.

"How much is that gonna cost?" Steve asked.

He looked at us, sizing us up. "You both mechanics like the boss said?"

"Yeah. Out of Tulsa."

"Friends of ol' Doc Horton and Sheriff Bobby?"

I had no idea what this guy was getting at, but I remembered those names. "Yeah. I know the doctor and the sheriff. Why?"

"Ol Doc took care of my gall stones fer me. I come in with this real bad pain in my side, he took one look at me and fixed me right up. Scar ain't that big neither. And while I was there, all cooped up in the hospital, sheriff moved my car fer me … didn't even give me a ticket or nothin'."

"So?" asked Steve.

The guy spit out another glop of dark brown spit.

"So, I guess I can haul you boys back to town on the sly. Ain't like I ain't going back there no way. You boys gonna do the work yourself?"

"That's the plan." I nodded.

"That's good," he said as he hooked the truck up the the wrecker again. "Jimmy's out of town fer the holiday. Went to Amarillo to see his family. He ain't been....."

"Is this guy for real" Steve whispered.

I nodded, unable to help thinking the same.

".... so anyway, you boys follow me. I'll take her to the shop and let you two work your own magic. Maybe we can get in before the game ends."

I followed Steve and sat in his car, him gunning the engine. A few minutes later, we were off back to Hollis to fix anything that may be wrong with the truck.

XXX

We were sitting around the house, laughing as Steve mimicked Parnell's tow truck driver.

"Oh stop that!" admonished Mrs. Nixon with a laugh of her own. "That's just Samuel. He's … stuck in his ways. He came here from Macon, Georgia, years ago and never let go of his accent. He's really a great person, an asset to the community. Not many would go out and tow a car in this weather, and certainly not on New Years eve."

"And I appreciate it." I added, not wanting to cause bad feelings to our host. Once again, she had readied the house for all of us to stay the night. I'd offered transfer everyone to a hotel, but she'd scoffed at that notion. So here we were, lounging around her living room with bellies full from the minor feast she'd made, talking about the things we'd been up to since last fall.

Little Alex was awake too, fighting a losing battle with sleep while nestled in Ponyboy's arms. She had a brotherly thing for him, and it was interesting to see how he acted around her, making me wonder what it would have been like if Ponyboy hadn't been the last sibling we'd had. She lay curled up against his chest, him absentmindedly stroking her long dark hair.

"Alex, honey, why don't you go to bed?" her mother asked, noticing her yawn for the fifth time.

"No," she said stubbornly, winching her arms around Pony's neck a bit tighter. "You said I could stay up to watch the new year come in."

"But you're tired. It's really no big deal, just a tick of the clock....."

"No."

I turned my head, not letting anyone see my stifled grin. She was just as stubborn as someone else I knew, just 8 years too old for her.

"She's not bothering me, Mrs. Nixon." Pony offered. Mrs. Nixon sighed, taking the empty cups to the kitchen.

And so it went. For the next hour or so, we basically hung out, teaching Mrs. Nixon some Poker moves while the television announced the time over and over again. Finally the ball was dropped, cheers made, and looking over, I grinned. Alex missed it by a good ten minutes. Even all our noise didn't cause her to stir.

"Happy New Year, Alexandra," Pony murmured to her. Her only response was to snuggle closer to his chest.

"I'd better get her up to bed." Pony said, working himself to get up without waking her.

"Let me take her, she's too heavy for you." Mrs. Nixon said, her arms out to take her daughter but Pony was already on his feet.

"Naw, I got it. Be right back." Pony carrying Alex and Mrs. Nixon trailing behind disappeared up the stairs.

"That kid sure has a thing about Ponyboy," Two-Bit surmised with a yawn.

"Creepy." Steve added, shaking his head.

"Nah, I think it's cute." Soda said with a tired look in my direction. "Look, I don't know about you guys, but I'm beat. Where's everyone sleeping?"

"I doubt the kid's gonna give up his room. That leaves the couch and the floor... and if memory serves, it's my turn for the couch, Two-Bit, so get your ass off it."

"Hey, watch the language. She don't like cursing in her house." I reminded them.

"Sorry, forgot. Still, Two-Bit... move it. I ain't in the mood to play."

"It's a new year, Stevie... you need to be more giving to your fellow man." Two-Bit mocked as he got up.

"The only thing I'm gonna give you is a black eye if you don't move it."

"Settle it down, everyone. Soda, you taking the kid's room or you gonna try to cram yourself in with Ponyboy again?"

"I'll go hang with Pony in the corner bedroom. Night guys. Happy New Year."

"Back at ya. Night Soda."

We all disbanded, exhaustion getting even the better of me. Tomorrow would be a long day, the start of a fresh year. I hoped the drama, trials and pain that had followed us like an evil shadow over the last year would leave us. We were all due for a break.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	12. Confidential

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 12

**Confidential**

XXX

"Pony! Come on, kiddo! It's time to go!" He was on the porch saying goodbye to Mrs. Nixon - for the twentieth time! I swear, he's starting to behave like the other country people around here. Say it once then leave! How flippin hard was that? "What's taking him so long? Jeeze!"

Steve and Two-Bit had already left, having gone through this 'goodbye scene' a few times before. Besides, Steve had mentioned something about wanting to fill up at the gas station in town and thank Parnell's again for letting them use their garage for next to nothing. The truck was fine, just needed the brakes cleaned from the muck in the ditch. Parnell's even exchanged the dead battery for a new one, since the receipt was still in the glove box where I'd shoved it last summer. It was still under warranty and the guy at Parnell's said he knew the manager at the auto store and it wouldn't be a problem swapping them out. Now if I could just get Ponyboy in the truck, we could get on the road!

"Ponyboy Michael ... either you _get_ in the truck now or you_ walk_ back to Tulsa!" I demanded haughtily. He gave her another hug, squeezed Alex then leapt off the steps and jumped in the truck.

"Don't blow a gasket, Darry, I was just saying bye."

"Uh huh. Soda, you follow behind me, and don't go driving like a maniac on the road."

Soda grinned as he started the truck and I finally got in behind the wheel of Michelle's Biscayne. With a final wave at Mrs. Nixon and Alex, we finally headed back to Tulsa.

XXX

"So," teased Soda as we rumbled along behind Darry, "did you have as good a time as you thought you would?"

"You have_ got_ to be joking," I answered in disbelief. "First we run off the road, then spend half the night in the freezing truck, and follow_ that_ up by busting into someone's house. As it was, we only got to spend a few hours at Mrs. Nixon's. Some New Year, indeed!"

"That wasn't exactly what I meant," he said with a grin.

I thought about it but gave up. "What exactly did you mean then?"

He laughed. "I swear Ponyboy.... I meant you and Linda! Did you at least get to kiss her again?"

I looked at him warily. "Why do you wanna know?"

He looked at me funny for a moment before finally answering, and I was taken aback by the unusual sincerity in his tone. "Because. It was important to you. I mean, that was the whole point of coming out here in the first place, wasn't it? To see her?"

I wasn't sure how to answer that. Honestly, yes, I wanted to see and talk with her, catch up on everything; but even though our time was cut short and most of our talking was done on horseback, something nagged at me that not everything was all kosher dilly's about our status with each other, either. So, I took the low road and tried to lie. Problem was, while lying to Darry was an art I was sort of good at, Sodapop was a different story.

"No, it was to see the horses and Mrs. Nixon. I_ am_ supposed to be helping her with Casper, remember?"

"You ain't fooling me, buck – o."

I rolled my eyes but kept quiet for a bit. My worries had been building like an afternoon summer storm, creeping up unnoticed until thunder boomed overhead. Soda didn't press, but waited for me to open up on my own.

"Soda, can I ask you some stuff... without you going to Darry about it. Between-us sort of stuff?"

He gave me a side glance before answering. "Sure, Pone. Whassup?"

"When did you, ya know, first start getting serious? About girls? I know Sandy wasn't your first."

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel but kept looking straight ahead. At first, I thought he'd joke it off, as really personal stuff wasn't something he talked about. Bull sessions were one thing, but honest up-front truth was something else. Still, every now and then, Sodapop surprises me.

"It was a year before Sandy. I was... what? Maybe fifteen? Just like you are now, but don't go getting any idea's. We're two different people, and Linda and Sandy are two different girls. Besides, Darry was even later than me, but I doubt you'd get him to admit to it. Point is, there ain't no timeline for it. Why?"

I shrugged. "I was just wondering." I mulled what he'd said over, but age really wasn't the problem. It was the distance... and I was getting the feeling it would eventually be too much. Already I had the notion that whatever we had was going to end, and I didn't like that. Not when I was just getting used to liking how she made me feel – as stupid as that sounds. "Seems no one likes me being with her anyway. Her Dad ain't all that keen on me, and it's plain as day that Darry don't like her."

"Hell, Ponyboy, daddies never like any guy wanting to go out with their sweet little girls, no matter how old they get; and Darry just ain't used to it, that's all. It's hard for me too, kiddo, to see you so goofy over a chick."

"She ain't a chick. Don't call her that," I shot back haughtily. Chicks were low class, overly made-up cheap girls that could care less if you called them again. Linda wasn't any of that.

"Whoa. Don't get defensive, I didn't mean it like that and you know it." He cut me some side glances while he watched the road, but I said nothing. I knew he didn't mean it – not like that.

"Hey Pone, hey uh... you two haven't...? I mean, you woulda _told _me if you had... _right_?"

"What?"

I just looked at him, a blank expression saying more than the one word I uttered.

He tried to hide a sudden grin. "Have you and her gone all the..."

Realization hit me. "No!" I answered before he'd finished. "I can't believe you'd even ask! Jeeze, Sodapop, I thought you knew me well enough by now!"

He looked out the other window, trying not to laugh – I'm sure - while I sat here forced into an inquisition of my love life. "Well," he asked when he could finally ask with a straight face, "how far have you gone?"

Damn, this was more than I bargained for when I asked for some between him -and- me talk. I squirmed in my seat, my own inexperience embarrassing me. "Kissed. That's bout it." I'd never be able to sit in on another bull session once Soda told Steve. He'd massacre me easily.

"Let me guess... you feel the need to press for more?"

"Soda!"

"Hey, you asked for my help here, little bro. And this is just between us, so be honest with me."

"Well, hell yeah! But I haven't... I mean, I_ want_ to, but … I dunno."

"Ponyboy," he was looking at me with laughter in his eyes. I felt so stupid. "Trust me, I understand."

I said nothing for a while, then... "I don't know if we really have a chance for anything more, anyway."

He looked at me confused. "Why? You two have a fight or something?"

I shook my head. "No, not really. It's just... I don't get to come here to see her but every now and then, and so far each trip out has been reduced to some sort of search and rescue mission. Not exactly the way I pictured 'dating' to be."

He laughed. "No, that ain't the way dating usually goes, that's for sure."

I sat still, absorbing his words and knowing they were true.

"I don't think we have much of a chance. I knew this was gonna happen, even way back last summer. Even Mrs. Nixon told me long distance relationships don't work." My voice fell as I recognized the truth. "I should have listened, then none of this would be happening."

Yep, pity party of one going on. I sat there, picking at my hangnail thinking of how things always seem to go wrong.

"Why couldn't I have found a girl in Tulsa like Linda, instead of messing up everyone's lives each time I come out here?" I'd picked at my nail to the point it bled. I sucked the blood drop off, welcoming the sting in my finger..

"Now just hold on a sec. I thought things were good between you and her. Hell, the way you two were all cozy on Casper yesterday.... what happened?"

"Nothing happened. It's just - she's on one end of the state and I'm on the other. It ain't like we can go hang out together, you know.. movies or dancing - like when you or Steve or any of the gang go out with your girls. Heck, every time I go see her, it turns into a nightmare."

"Nightmare would be stretching it a bit, not that any of these trips have been smooth sailing. But, still, when you and her do go out, you have fun; don't you?"

"Yeah."

"And Darry still lets you go - granted... not every week, but you do get to go, right?"

I sighed. "Yeah."

"And she's waited for you, each time. Right?"

"Your point?"

"My point is, she likes you, you like her, and she's good for you. Darry wouldn't let you travel all the way out here if he didn't silently approve of her. And I like her too. For you, I mean. She's smart and witty. And any girl who can piss off Darry like she does is one I'd like to keep around. As far as the distance goes, well, kiddo, we're all dealing with it. Her included."

It was a few more miles before he spoke again. By that time, I was ready to let the subject drop. However, I guess he wanted to use the mood to make another point.

"Pone," he said seriously. "I know I haven't talked with you about it, and I doubt Darry has either, but really, there ain't no rush in wanting more with a girl. Yeah, I know it's natural, but really... learn from my mistakes, okay?"

I just looked at him, wondering what in heck he was talking about. "What mistakes?"

He gave me something close to a pained look. "I told you I was nearly fifteen when I lost ... well, my first time. And in truth, I wasn't ready for what I was doing. But Steve was going on and on about him and his girl and I was tired of hearing it. I was a bumbling fool that first time. When it was over, I told her I'd call her and we'd go out again, but I didn't. I was sort of glad she never called me either; I don't think I could have faced her again no how."

I was shocked. Soda never told me really personal stuff like this.

"And it was the same with the next chick I went out with, I had to prove myself a 'man'," he wiggled his fingers into quotes, the sarcasm thick in his tone. "She and I dated for a while – I don't guess you'd even remember her, but even that fizzled out. It wasn't until I met Sandy that I knew things were different. She was special, Pone; a real keeper."

He didn't look at me, instead had a wistful glaze in his eyes as he stared straight ahead. "And I did everything I knew to be as special to her as she was to me. I did love her, Ponyboy. Even now, I can honestly say I loved her. But for whatever reason," his jaw muscle clenched and the gaze in his eyes turned hard, "she turned to someone else. I never knew who and I never knew why – and I don't want to, either. And yeah, it still hurts. But, time goes on."

He rested his elbow on the door's window ledge, then leaned his head into that hand - suddenly looking tired. "So anyway, lesson is, when it's the right girl and the right time, then it will be what it's supposed to be. Whether it's with Linda or someone else, it'll be right. And as for the distance between Tulsa and Hollis, well, so far you've both managed it okay. Eventually Darry will come around, and since you've not gone much past first base, in time maybe her father will come around too."

I looked at him. "You think so?"

He looked at me and grinned again. "Hell, Pone. You wear your hair too long and dress like a hood. What respectable father_ wouldn't _want you dating his only daughter?"

I smiled. "Gee, thanks, Sodapop."

"Glad I could help, Ponyboy."

XXX

"How's the roads from here east?" I asked a trucker when I went inside the truck stop. For the last few hours, Soda and I rode with chains on the vehicles; as the roads in that corner of the state were still pretty bad. But now we were just passed the capitol and it looked pretty clear.

"Good. Nothing bad from what I saw. Course, the snow's still on the ground, but the roads are in good shape."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

He picked up what he'd bought and headed out while I paid for mine and Soda's gas. "Hey Soda," I called as I went back outside, "I hear the roads are in good shape. You wanna lose the chains?"

He nodded. "No problem. C'mon Ponyboy, give me a hand."

They had the chains off in no time and before long, we were back on the highway. The driver was right, it was smooth sailing all the way back home. After a harrowing few days, I was glad to see my run-down yard again. I idled the car as Soda pulled up by the curb.

"Hey Ponyboy, go on in and get dinner started. Soda, follow me over to Michelle's so I can drop off her car. Pony, we'll be back soon."

"Fine. See y'all in a bit."

He went in and once more, Soda followed. Fifteen minutes later, we were at Michelle's. I knocked on her door and she opened it, a smile spread on her face.

"So, I take it all is well with everyone?" She asked as I pulled her into a hug.

"Yep. Pony's at the house now, hopefully making dinner."

"Hello Sodapop. How are you?"

"Good, thanks. Did you have a good new year?"

She gave me a wink. "It wasn't exactly how I'd have liked it, but I'm glad to see you both back safely. How is Ponyboy? You two didn't have problems out there, did you?"

"Just a few, but nothing major. I'm sure Darry'll fill you in. Darry, I'll uh, wait out by the truck."

I tossed him the keys. "I'll be right out, so don't go leaving me here."

He grinned and left. When the door was shut, I pulled her to me again, this time leaving no space. "So, how would you have spent New Year's eve then?"

She gave me that devil in her eyes look. "Oh, it would have started like this," she murmured as her hands plundered inside my jacket, "... and went on to more. Sure you can't stay?"

I sighed. "No, I'd better not. I have to get stuff ready for work tomorrow. Maybe this weekend?"

She gave me a kiss. "I'll clear my calender."

"I'll hire a sitter." I laughed and headed outside where Soda was waiting, a knowing grin spread wordlessly on his face.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	13. Thoughts

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 13

**Thoughts**

**XXX**

It had been a month since leaving Hollis, a month with nothing new happening. Soda and Darry were working a lot more then usual, pulling in overtime when they could. Darry was still trying to recover our spent savings from last year and I think Soda was just happy to be back in the thick of car repair. Seems they had both let go of last year, ready to put it all behind them. But I couldn't.

It seemed my life changed too much last year. The last _two_ years to be exact. My parents, Johnny and Dal. Then the storm that tore us apart, and the next that brought us together. The draft - almost losing Sodapop. I don't think I'd have lived if .... I shuddered, not able to finish that thought. The memories still made me sick. Losing Sodapop would've killed me, I was certain of it. Not even Darry could've saved me from that.

And Linda - mixed into all this was her. Meeting her, liking her as a friend - then somehow realizing she meant more to me. Realizing it _too late_; when there was no time left. And every time I'd tried to connect with her again, something always happened to keep us apart. As if I was destined by fate to always be held back, denied some concrete happiness that everyone else seemed to have.

I shivered, pulling my jacket tighter to me. I'd been out here longer than even I'd expected, the sunset long gone and the chill settling in. Stars dotted the night sky now, twinkling bright like jewels on black felt. In a single effortless glance, I found constellations that easily stood out. Perseus, Taurus, Orion.... all right there in the night sky. I blinked and looked away, not wanting to see more.

I used to point them out to Johnny, the only one who actually seemed to give a damn about it. Soda would look, but I could tell he didn't see them. The big dipper – sure. That one I knew he saw. The rest, he faked recognition. At least he'd tried though. Darry would glance up and nod, then go on about whatever he was doing. The rest of the guys … well, I guess it wasn't a tuff thing to do, recognize constellations. Steve had settled it once and for all when he'd asked Johnny over two years ago what he and I were staring at up there.

"_It's tuff! Pegasus, right up there... Pony'd showed me...."_ Johnny'd answered, pointing at the stars. I'd heard the pride in his voice when he was able to remember correctly.

"_Stars. Jesus, kid, people are gonna think you're off your nut, going on like that. Cut it out – both of you."_

And that was the end of that.

"Ponyboy," Darry yelled from the porch. "I said take out the trash, not wait for the trash truck to come by! Get in here!"

I checked the lid, making sure it was on right then headed back inside.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked roughly.

I shrugged. "Nothing. Just thinking."

"Right. Well, since you're all into 'thinking', have you done your homework?"

"Yeah. It's done. There wasn't much, just some math and a report for English. I finished both before dinner."

He gave me a quirky glance. "If it's a report, I don't doubt it. What's it on?"

I hitched my thumbs in my pockets. "The life and times of Poe."

He smirked. "Yeah, that would explain you being glum. Poe was depressing enough. You ain't got to mope around as if in a reenactment."

"Darry, mind if I go out for a while?"

He stopped and looked at me harder. "Where? It's late, not much open."

"I just want to take a walk for a bit. I won't be gone long."

He looked at the clock. "Stay in the neighborhood."

I nodded, zipped up my jacket and headed back outside.

I crossed the street, headed up to the end of the block then sharply turned left between two bushes, taking a well-worn dirt path between two different properties, well off the sidewalk. Skirting around the neighbor's yards, I was able to spy inside the nearby house. I didn't expect anyone to be home – the car was gone and all the lights were off; everything dark and silent inside. I gave it a few more minutes then silently hopped the last fence, creeping closer, listening for any signs they were home. Satisfied that they weren't, I jimmied the back door open just like I had so many times in the past – and stepped inside Johnny's house again.

Once in, I looked around, waiting for my eyes to adjust while listening out for anyone who might actually be home, passed out unseen in a corner. They were still dangerous - his parents still fought and every now and then we could barely hear them; but the battles had waned considerably. With Johnny out of the way, I guess they had no one to beat on anymore and hardly any unbroken possessions left to throw at each other.

As if to prove my silent thoughts correct on this, two picture frames - each with cracked glass - stood on the nearby mantle, one of Johnny as a baby and the other – a rare one he'd shown me long ago – was of him and his folks when he was nearly ten. In that shot, they all looked normal. His mother smiling at his right and his father, with his hand on Johnny's shoulder, on his left. They had gone to a local park – he had forgotten why, but somehow, that shot made it back with them. He'd told me once that it was that picture that he liked the best, that it gave him hope that his folks still cared for him in some strange, forgotten way.

I guess that was one of the reason's he'd bugged Dallas that day, wanting to know if his folks had asked for him that week. I remembered the look on Johnny's face at that moment, that pained bewilderment that none of us could foresee would never find relief. And even though my own personal faith told me he was okay now, I couldn't help feeling the hurt he'd felt at their hands for so long. It simply wasn't fair. But like so many things in life, very rarely is anything fair.

Looking around, seeing the wreck of his house, I realized again what a struggle he'd had living here while trying in vain to earn their love. On the table were remnants of a meal cooked a day or so ago, dried food still smeared on dishes left behind. A roach crept around a plate as I passed by. I hugged my arms around myself, not wanting to remember if it had been this bad for him when he lived here, but I was pretty sure I'd lay awake tonight thinking of it anyway.

I took a breath, the room musty from nearly a year of dust and stale tobacco hovering in uncirculated air; and something new too, a faint hint of marijuana. Silently I wondered which of Johnny's parents was using dope and how long they'd been doing it. My heart was beating hard, wondering what Johnny would think if he could see his folks now.

I watched my footing carefully as I made my way to the back of the house, through the trash that littered the floor leading back to Johnny's old room. Last time I had been in here - maybe a few days before we'd met Dally to go to the Double, his bed had been roughly made, the few pairs of jeans he'd owned folded and stacked nearby on the floor, and a dozen or so of his shirts hung up in his closet. Magazines, usually gifts from Two-Bit or Dally, had littered the area around his bed, a few skin mags hidden between his mattresses. Why he'd bothered to hide them, I didn't know. Neither of his parents ever came into his room back then.

They weren't there now. Johnny's bed and most of his possessions were gone. The floor was littered with a scattering of rubbish, a few boxes held old books and papers I vaguely recognized as his. In the closet were another two boxes, each containing his clothes that for some reason his parents hadn't gotten rid of. I lifted the top item, a shirt he'd worn so many times so long ago. I held it to my face and breathed in, the musty scent of time and dust being all that I detected.

I sat the shirt back down, feeling a lump in my throat. I did the math quickly in my head; he'd been gone for roughly sixteen months, and yet I still missed him so much. Time hadn't eased that feeling of loss for me like it had the others, but I did a pretty good job at holding it at bay, forcing myself to remember again and again that he was okay now, not in pain or suffering anymore. But on rare occasions like this one, the monumental feeling of loss came back to me.

The need to talk about what was going on in my life was weighing me down, smothering me; making me feel as if I were choking for air again. All the struggles I had been through in the last year just wouldn't settle and lay still. I kept thinking of what I'd been through, like one bad event morphing into another. But in the background of it all was Linda, her face and calm reassuring voice being the only thing that offered solace to my misery.

And now, I had the crushing feeling like I was losing her, simply because we were constantly too far apart to stay together.

I couldn't talk with Soda about it, although I was sure he'd listen and probably offer great advice. Still, there was really nothing he could do for me about it. Darry was out of the question, too busy to deal with my growing up and changing maturity. The rest of the gang wouldn't understand either. To the guys, I was still a kid; too young to have feelings like I did. Simply put, I had no one I could really go to about this. The only one who'd stood a chance of understanding was gone, and here I stood like a buffoon in his bedroom, wishing he could hear me and give me some advice. At least I knew he wouldn't laugh at me, mocking my feelings. Since that first night in Windrixville when I'd cried myself to sleep on his shoulder, I knew he could never be that cruel. It just wasn't in him.

I brushed away the tears that had risen, feeling stupid. "I miss you, Johnnycakes," I mumbled out loud, my voice breaking the heavy silence. Outside, a car drove past, lighting up the windows for a moment as my heart skipped a beat, then surged faster as the car continued down the road. The Cade's would be back eventually, and being found here was the last thing I needed.

I put the shirt back close to the way I found it and headed back through the house, stopping to look again at that picture of him as a ten year old, smiling, with his parent's arms around him. I hesitated, the desire to steal that picture pulling at me; but in the end I left it. Pictures were all they had left of their son. Maybe now they'd feel the sting of what they'd lost by looking at his smiling face every day for the rest of their miserable lives.

I wiped away more tears, regretting my idea to come here. Silently, I snuck back out the rear door, heading down the same path to the road then continued around the block instead of heading straight back. I needed the cool air to dry my tears and calm my nerves. I'd go home soon.

XXX

"Hey Sodapop, you got any idea what's with Pony these days?"

Soda sat on the couch watching the game as he sorted and folded clothes into stacks that towered all over the coffee table. "Nope. Why?"

I looked at him. "You can't tell me you ain't noticed how he's been lately." Soda's oblivious look said it all. "Soda, c'mon man, he's been dragging around here ever since getting back from Hollis. Something go on down there you ain't telling me? I know you like to cover for him and all, but seriously, anything I need to know about?"

He grinned a bit, shrugging my comment off. "I told you already, I was with him and nothing happened. It ain't a cover, it's the truth."

I grabbed a stack of my clothes and put them in a basket, thinking there was more to this than what was coming off, but Ponyboy has always been the hardest of us to read.

"Why don't you ask him if something's bugging him, since you're so worried about it."

"Cause he don't tell me nothing. You know that."

"He don't tell you stuff cause you get pigheaded." Soda laughed. I looked at him, incensed.

"Oh that's classic. Name calling? Original, Pepsi."

"He tells you stuff..." Soda started as I rolled my eyes. "More than he used to anyway. You just need to learn to listen, Superman." He grinned at the obvious tease.

"He ain't said squat for me to listen_ to."_

Soda put the jeans he was folding down. "Has he told you how much he likes Linda?"

"No," I answered, hating that name again. Trouble only followed that name.

"Or that he's kissing her, and wanting more?"

My eyes went up at that, but Soda just grinned and went back to the jeans. "Don't worry, he hasn't. Yet. But it's getting high time you had a chat with him. If you don't want to do it, then tell me and I'll do it. But either way, it's got to be done. I've already talked with him a little bit, but thought you'd want to go into the details."

I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the impending headache. Soda's experiences and mine were different, and God only knew what Ponyboy would be like. I knew this time was coming, but I still wasn't exactly ready for it.

"Fine, I'll lay down the law. No sex till he's fifty."

Soda laughed. "Yeah, right. He's gonna follow _that _rule to the letter."

"Fine, thirty," I compromised. "And not with that Viper, either."

"You're getting a bit behind the eight-ball on that one, big guy. Remember, he's already gone to first base. It won't be long before he's checking out second."

"Not if I keep him here in Tulsa and she stays in Hollis. Then it won't be a problem."

Soda looked at me, the shirt he was folding squashed into a ball in his lap. "Darry, c'mon. This ain't about Linda, not all of it. You can't keep him from growing up." He folded the shirt and grabbed another from the pile. "Besides, if it ain't Linda, it'll eventually be with some other girl. Personally, I don't see what you don't like in her. He could do far worse."

I sighed, knowing he was right. Ponyboy was growing up, true, but there was still one little problem. "You forget, he won't talk to me."

Soda's in-your-face glance caught me off guard. "It's _you_ who has to talk to _him_. And if you do it right, maybe he'll talk back." He went back to the clothes. "But if you don't want to, just tell me and I'll take care of it."

"And what would you say?" I asked, humored for once.

"Same thing Dad told me. I figured if Dad said it, it would be good enough for Ponyboy too."

"Dad ain't here, Sodapop. And you know we can't afford no 'mistakes'. Anyway, Ponyboy's smarter than that."

"He's human, Darry." Soda warned.

"With better morals than either of us combined." I countered. "But I'll talk with him. Soon."

Soda gave me a side glance of disbelief then took his clothes to his room, dropping off a stack of Pony's on his bed on the way.

I looked at my watch then looked out the window. Pony'd been gone almost two hours.

"He's still got time before curfew," Soda reminded me as he came back for more clothes.

"I know. But he's pushing it."

"He'll be home." Soda said with conviction.

X

The clothes were all away, the game long over and the late evening news also coming to an end; yet Ponyboy still hadn't shown back up. I looked over at Sodapop, who'd been glancing at his watch almost as often as I'd checked the clock.

"I'll go," Soda said as if he could read my mind. He grabbed his coat, zipping it up before leaving out the door.

I flipped off the television, wondering where he was now and what I had done to deserve this all over again.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	14. Plans

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 14

**Plans**

XXX

"Ponyboy?" I called out as I caught sight of him heading up the sidewalk, his breath coming in clouds as he quickly made his way towards our house. I stood with my arms crossed over my chest. "I know you ain't technically late, but bub, you're down to the wire! Where you been?"

"Like I told Darry, I went for a walk. How late am I?"

I shoved him toward the door, his teeth chattering despite the jacket he'd worn. "Just get inside before Darry goes ape-shit."

Wordlessly he went in, me following right behind him. "He ain't late, Darry... just remember that," I called over Pony's shoulder to Darry, who stood like a statue in the middle of the living room - glaring at him.

"Go get ready for bed, Pony," was all he'd said, which I was surprised about. Guess he'd been working on that temper issue of his that had caused so much trouble way back when. Darry flipped off the lamp and closed the door, heading to his room in silence. In his own Darry-like way of saying he was pissed, he shut his door completely. Usually he just pulls it to, leaving it cracked so he could hear better.

Pony, having changed into his sweats, came out of his room and went to the bathroom. A few minutes later when I heard the tap running in the sink, I knocked and slid the door open.

"You okay?"

He nodded. "Tired. Didn't wear my watch or I'd have been home sooner." He spit the toothpaste in the sink and kept brushing. I looked at him a moment longer, looking for his tells. His eyes were tinged pink and his voice slightly hoarse. It could be nothing more than just spending too long outside in the cold. Yet I wasn't sure.

"You know if something's bugging ya, you can talk to me," I reminded him.

"Nothing's wrong," he insisted without looking at me, an obvious tell of something amiss. I waited, but he kept brushing his teeth, looking down at the swirl of water in the drain.

"Well, I'm beat. Night Pone." I said softly, putting my hand on his shoulder a second then letting go.

"Night, Sodapop."

I couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong but if he wouldn't talk, I couldn't exactly beat it out of him either. I hoped whatever cloud hovered over him would blow away soon.

XXX

I put the acetylene torch down, watching as Steve pulled in with Two-Bit riding shot-gun.

"Where's …?" I asked, but Steve put his hand out.

"Told us at lunch he was going to hang back and work on his jump shot, not to bother waiting for him."

"For the shortest Point Guard in the school's history, he sure can shoot," Two-Bit said, grabbing a pack of Twinkies off the counter. "His game's tomorrow, right?"

"Hey, we got to pay for those, ya thief!" Steve grinned, taking the snack out of Two-Bit's hand and shoving what was left down his throat.

"Yeah, his game's tomorrow. Hey Steve, go clock in. I need help with this axle."

"What, you're finally admitting to not being the end-all of mechanics?" Two-Bit continued, taking a Moon Pie this time. "Everybody knows you're just the beauty behind the brains here, ain't that right Steve?"

"At least I know a dipstick from a crank shaft, moron." I retorted.

"Ouch, what's eating you?" Steve asked.

I sighed, trying to settle down. "Nothing, just the usual. What's going on at the Campus of Higher Learning?"

Steve grinned. "Nothing much."

I didn't miss Two-Bit's not-so-casual glance away coupled with the microscopic pause they had.

"Bull shit. What's going on?"

Steve clocked in, tucking something in his jeans pocket before pulling out his jumpsuit from his locker. "It's nothing, Sodapop. Just time to order some stuff for school."

"Great. Now what do we need to get him?"

Two-Bit and Steve exchanged another glance. "It ain't for Ponyboy. Don't worry about it."

I gave up and reached for the brochure sticking out. Realization hit me. Cap and Gowns for the senior class, of which Steve was a part of. I would have been too, if I hadn't quit and somehow managed to pass all those classes. The chances had been unlikely, but still.....

"I told you it wasn't for the kid." Steve reminded me carefully. I folded the brochure and handed it back.

"Tuff enough. Two-Bit, you ever gonna graduate?" I asked, faking indifference.

He grinned. "Yeah, eventually. I'll let Stevie here go first, maybe I'll get my own next year."

"They ain't gonna just let you be a professional student, Two-Bit. You don't graduate before you're 21, you don't get to come back at all. Better keep that in mind."

"Hey, I got a plan. I'm biding my time! I ain't in no hurry to get out and punch a clock every day."

"Whatever. Steve... the axle?" I reminded him. He nodded and followed me back to the bay.

"Later guys!" Two-Bit called out, heading toward the bus stop.

Steve and I repaired the axle and got the car back together faster than I could have done it alone.

"Soda?"

"Yeah?"

"That brochure bugging you?"

"No, why?"

"You ain't said two words since you saw it."

I looked at him, shaking my head. "No, that ain't it. I gotta admit though... seeing it does hit me some. You and me would have graduated together, if I'd somehow managed to pass."

"Yeah, I thought about that too." Steve answered, putting the torch back up for me.

"Hey Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you gonna do after grad? Come here with me full time?" I tried to keep the hope out of my voice, knowing Steve had wavered for a long time on what he would do after graduation. Suddenly, the four years of high school were nearly over and he would be free to do something else if he wished. I already knew I wasn't leaving here, not for a long time.

He looked at me hard while wiping the grease off his hands, not saying a word for too long a pause. "I haven't got a clue what I'm gonna do yet." Something in his tone told me differently. And for a moment, he and I just looked at each other, neither of us speaking. Thankfully a car came in the service bay and I drew myself up, turning to take care of it.

"I'd better get that," I said. He nodded and headed off to the next car in the bay.

XXX

"Hey Soda?" Steve broke into my thoughts as we headed home. "What was bugging you before me and Two-Bit showed up? You know, before the whole brochure thing?"

I looked at the many yards, each the same just separated by chain-linked fencing as we headed home. "Nothing much. Just Ponyboy is all. And I know you don't like to yap about him so I didn't bring it up."

He looked over at me. "What's the kid done now?"

"Nothing that I know of. He's just acting out of sorts, getting all quiet again. He's spending too much time alone and ain't talking."

"Not even to you? I thought you could get him blabbing about anything?"

I started to chew on a nail, then stopped when I tasted the grease still under my fingers. I rolled the window down and spit. "I used to. He's clammed up again though."

"That brother of yours always has something going on."

I looked at him, trying hard not to be too critical. "Watch it, Steve, he_ is _my brother."

Steve's eyebrows went up. "I _know_ the kid's your brother. And you also know I'm right."

I leaned my head back, closing my eyes. "Yeah, I know"

"Hey, look. He's got a basketball game tomorrow evening. You still going?"

"Have I missed any yet?"

He smirked. "No, I don't guess you have. And I've been at most of them too, don't forget."

"I ain't."

"Anyway, I'm still picking you up?"

I nodded, my eyes still closed. "Yep. Same time as usual."

"Then cheer up. I ain't looking forward to hanging around a sad-sap all night. Darry going?"

I opened my eyes and blinked. My house was around the corner. "Darry? I don't think so. I think he mentioned something about getting more hours at the warehouse."

Steve said nothing as he pulled up by my house and idled. I hopped out and he revved the engine.

"Later, Sodapop," he called out as he drove away.

I watched him round the corner and headed inside.

XXX

"_Ball on the floor... it's run up the court... passed to Jones... he dribbles, unable to shoot, passes to Saunders... double-teamed... finds a man open, between the legs pass to Curtis... time clock running... under pressure.. shoots.. three-pointer! And off the Tigers go down to their end of the court...!"_

* * * * *

The buzzer finally sounded, putting an end to this back and forth insanity. It was a rough game, one of our hardest – and thankfully we'd finished on top, 59 – 52, but it wasn't easy. Three hours of hell, and I was in for every second of it. Soda, Steve and Two-Bit were hooting from their seats near the top of the bleachers and I stopped to wave at them before heading into the locker room. Soda gave me a thumbs up and I nodded, not letting on how dog-tired I was. Or disappointed.

Darry wasn't there. He'd missed me play, again.

I knew Darry was working at his warehouse job, trying to make up for lost construction hours claimed by Tulsa's penchant for bad weather. I also realized it would be Darry who'd suffer the lingering back pain and fatigue without a word of complaint. Still, it bugged me.

I never remembered our parents missing even one of Darry's football games – even when Dad had to work overtime the rest of the week to make up for it. We all went, as a family. And it wasn't like I couldn't help; Mr. Brock had told me I could come back to Rosewood's anytime, but Darry was just too bull-headed to accept help from me even if it made things easier on all of us.

I grabbed a towel and headed into the showers, trying to shrug off my selfish feelings while putting on a front for my teammates who were still hooting and hollering in celebrating all around me. Deep down in my heart, however, I really wasn't in the mood to celebrate anything. While I could brush it away for the sake of the team, I still felt a weight bearing down on me.

XXX

Soda and the guys were waiting for me in their usual spot, illegally parked by the gym's back doors. I tossed my bag in and hopped on the tailgate, reaching for the Pepsi Two-Bit held out.

"Man, I'm beat." I said as I unscrewed the cap.

"You played good. Surprised coach kept you in for the whole game though. Whassup with the other point guard?"

"He's nursing a bad knee. Besides, I was fine, didn't need to come out."

"You're feeling it now, though... ain't ya, super jock?" Two-Bit scoffed, whacking my arm. I sputtered, choking on a swig of Pepsi after he sucker-punched me.

"The only thing I'm feeling is a desire to knock your block off!" I laughed, putting the lid back on my bottle. "Come on, parking lot's thinned out, let's go."

"Pizza... on me." Steve announced suddenly. I gave him a look, the shock on my face as easy to read as a first grade textbook. He saw my expression and tried to glower. "Shuddup, kid. This ain't for you. I'm hungry, and concessionary snacks ain't gonna do it."

"Whatever."

Soda hopped down while I slid over to rest against the cab. He rode up front with Steve while Two-Bit hunkered next to me in the bed of the truck. It was cold out, but I was so lost in thought that I didn't feel the temperature.

"Hey kid, you even listening?" Two-Bit broke into my thoughts.

"Yeah," I lied. "Sure." Whatever he'd been yammering on about was lost to the wind. I hadn't heard a word.

He looked at me with disbelief. I didn't fool him but he didn't ask either, and for that I was grateful.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	15. What If

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 15

**What If?**

XXX

"Whacha want, kid? The works or just extra meat?"

I looked at Steve, who was waiting for my answer. "I thought you said this wasn't for me."

"It ain't. But I know you're a picky eater, and I ain't got the stomach to watch you autopsy your dinner."

Two-Bit stifled a laugh while Soda shoved Steve over in our booth. I rolled my eyes. "Really, I don't care what you get."

"You want chicken instead?" Soda asked, trying to make peace.

"No, pizza's fine."

"Ponyboy..." Soda started in a semi-threatening tone.

"Look, honestly, I don't care. And I won't autopsy whatever you get, either." I started to slide out, shoving Two-Bit out of my way in the process. "I'll be back," I called as I left the booth, wanting both space and air.

I headed toward the men's room, having to wait since the place was crowded. I had no idea what the guy was doing in the single stall - and honestly, I didn't want to know. Whatever he was doing, he was making one heck of a racket. Others had noticed, as several heads turned to watch the prancing black tennis shoes that were visible under the stall door. Finally I gave up and slipped unnoticed from the restaurant, crossing the strip of bushes over to the laundrymat where I knew a line wouldn't exist.

It was warm inside, the room charged with static electricity from the few dryers all whirling with clothes. Three women were here; two folding clothes another reading a book while a little kid sat at a nearby table drawing on paper. In the far corner sat a homeless man, bothering no one. It wasn't unusual to see vagrants hanging around, trying to stay warm during these cold nights. I kept my distance from everyone and headed to the restroom. A few minutes later when I was leaving, I glanced at him again, wondering where in his life things went wrong and if he could go back and change it, would he? And how?

It was something I'd thought a lot of a year ago; if I could change something in my life, what would it have been? Would it have been pitching a fit the night my folks went out to an after-Christmas dinner, forcing my folks to skip it hence changing history so that they didn't leave - and therefore wouldn't die?

What if doing_ that_ would have caused others to die in their place? Could I live with a better conscious if - instead of_ them_ going out for the night, Dad had sent Darry and Sodapop to get take-out - only to have them be killed in some bizarre accident? Then I would have to live with my parent's tortured devastation over losing their oldest boys; not to mention my own grief at suddenly being left without brothers in the wake of their deaths. That, I think, would be even harder than burying Mom and Dad. Kids bury their parents, not the other way around.

Another idea that had bugged me relentlessly was _what if _instead of going with Johnny to the lot, I'd simply gone straight home after the movies? Then I wouldn't have fallen asleep and gotten home late in the first place. Darry wouldn't have hit me and I wouldn't have run off. Yet even that didn't guarantee that Johnny wouldn't die. Instead of Johnny's body just giving out and dying painlessly in the hospital - what if he'd been beaten to death in the lot by those boozed up Soc's? I'm pretty sure Dal would still have done something stupid - like murdering the Soc's involved to avenge Johnny, then spent the rest of his life on death row where none of us would ever see him again anyway.

So, changing one thing wouldn't necessarily make anything better, and - could even make everything worse. The question was always –_ what if, _and would it be worth it? Not that it mattered, as time didn't go in reverse, it only went forward. I shook my head and left the laundrymat, cutting across the lot to the back of the Pizza Palace, trying to clear my head of all this along the way.

I guess I was still lost in thought as I meandered my way around, pausing when I noticed two kitchen employees hanging around the trash bins having a smoke, the back door propped open with a brick. Crossing by them, the stream of smoke hit me, the smell instantly recognizable – the same brand I used to smoke a year ago. Cravings had dissipated over the many months but never totally went away, and right then it hit me like a brick wall.

The itch to light up was killing me and I couldn't help staring at the lit smoke dangling between two of one of the guys fingers. I guess I stared too long.

"Hey, want one?" the guy with pizza sauce on his apron asked, tapping his pack to let one slide halfway out.

"Yeah, thanks." I took it, denial being worse than admitting an addiction. _One wouldn't hurt,_ I thought. _It had been long enough, I should be fine._ How wrong I was. The first pull of smoke choked me, nearly landing me on my ass. I felt my heart racing and a head rush the instant it filled my lungs. To say I started coughing was an understatement. I was damn near retching. They laughed.

"Hell kid, never smoked before?"

I nodded, still coughing. "Been a while," was all I could get out. _How the hell did I do this every day?_

The other guy, the one with flour on him, tossed me the remnants of his pack. "Shoot. Might take you a while to get used to it again. Later kid. We got work to do." They went back inside and I tossed the lit smoke away. My eyes were watering and my head swam. After that one hit, I was shaking... wanting more than the one drag I'd taken, yet feeling sick to my stomach for it too. I already knew if I even tried to finish it, I would be right back where I'd started and then all that work would have been for nothing.

As I leaned against the building, weighing the pro's and con's of nicotine addiction, a sudden barrage of noise jolted me out of my reverie. Two gunshots in quick succession from inside the place. I jerked around and ducked all in the same motion.

Immediately, the two guys who had been outside smoking came running out, knocking me over in the process.

"Get the hell outa here, kid! Someone inside's got a gun!" flour man screamed.

"It's a holdup!" sauce man simplified.

And like an idiot, I ran _into_ the place.

XXX

"Hey," I said, kissing Michelle as she let me inside.

"How was work?" She asked as I slipped off my coat. She was still in her nursing outfit, obviously just getting home herself.

"Tiring." I didn't want to tell her that today's earnings would enable me to pay that huge electric bill that was close to being late. She'd have given me the money if I'd asked, but I wasn't about to do that. "Looks like you just got off too. How was your day?"

She headed off to the bedroom, taking off her nursing clothes as she went. I heard the shower turn on and she came back a moment later, wearing her robe.

"Like yours, tiring. I had three patients, each in pretty bad shape. I'm glad I'm off tomorrow. I'm gonna take a shower, get the days gore off me. Feel free to help yourself to anything you want."

I watched her head down the hall, her words lingering in my head. I scanned her fridge, getting a soft drink and finishing it in one minute. My fingers drummed the counter, listening to the steady spray of water just feet away. It made my throat dry, hearing it. I flipped on the small radio she had, the sultry sounds of Nat King Cole singing _Unforgettable_ filling the room and totally wearing me down. Like a moth to light I followed the lure, sliding my shirt off as I ventured down the hall.

"Darry!" Michelle stuttered, looking at me as I pulled the shower curtain back. By this time, I wasn't wearing anything at all.

"You said to help myself," I reminded her. She shook her head and made room. Admittedly, it was one of the best showers I think I'd ever had.

An hour or so later, I kissed her again and looked at her bedside clock.

"Damn," I mumbled. She stirred, her hand playing with my chest.

"What?" she wondered, her eyes still closed.

"I was supposed to be home hours ago. The guys are gonna be all over my case."

"Darry, I don't think they are_ that_ naive. They know where you are, don't they?"

"Yeah, probably. But I should have gone home. Ponyboy had his game tonight...."

"You chose this over your brother? I'm honored." she smiled, snuggling closer. I rubbed her shoulder.

"Well, I'm pretty sure his game was over by the time I showed up here. But I should have gone home so he could tell me how it went."

"I thought you said he runs track. Has that started up - in this weather?"

"No. Track season won't start for a while. He's a point guard for his high school basketball team. He's just doing this to stay in shape." I got up, finding my clothes and getting dressed again.

"Is he good? At being a point guard?"

I shrugged. "I guess so. I've been to a game or two, but usually I'm working. He understands."

"You sure about that?" Her tone suggested she didn't believe me.

I looked over at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She gave me a loaded look, but shook her head. "Nothing. Nothing. Tell them I said hello." She sank back into her bed, pulling the pillows closer to snuggle against. Damn, I wished I could stay the whole night.

"See you tomorrow?"

She smiled deviously. "I hope so. Lock the door on your way out. Night, Darry. Love you."

Those last words caught me. I looked back at her, but by then she was already asleep. I slipped out the door and headed to my truck. Her words giving me something to think about.

I was sure I loved her, just not sure enough to admit to it. Not like that. I _loved _being with her,_ loved _the feel of her body as I made love to her, _loved_ that she wasn't some flighty chick – was educated, smart and self-reliant. I just wasn't sure I loved_ her_... enough for a long term commitment. Not when I had so many responsibilities to contend with. The only thing depending on her was Freckles, and even she was fine on her own for a few days as long as food and a litter box were available. I had two mouths to feed. Well, one that was still legally mine to care for, but Soda would always be part of the picture too.

So, I was stuck between being the responsible adult, managing my house and all that it held; and being a man who was finding it increasingly hard to stay away from this woman who held so much stability for herself... and for me.

It was nearly ten. I hoped the guys were home and not out on the strip. I needed to get my head off Michelle for a while so I flipped on the radio, listening to The Isley Brothers hit, _Twist and Shout_, until the announcer broke in making me grumble. I was about to change the channel until his words hit me.

"... A hold up at the Pizza Palace on 27th Street and Pine has left one person shot and several others being held hostage. Witnesses said a man wielding a handgun entered the restaurant around nine, shooting one of the employees before locking the doors, taking the rest of the patrons hostage. Police are on the scene. The victim has not been identified and, according to reports, is still inside the building with medical aid waiting outside. We'll bring you more as it becomes available. Back to the music....."

I groaned, shutting the radio off. Stupid people. "You wanna go shoot people, go enlist. They could use some hotheads over there." Why I was talking to thin air, I had no idea. Frankly, I was so sick of today's idiots and the issues of the world. It was hard enough just getting by without making other people's lives miserable. I pulled up to the house, noticing the quiet. _Good. I hope they're playing cards or watching TV. Maybe they went the smart route and just went to sleep._

However, going inside told me they weren't anywhere around. "Sodapop?" No answer. I checked the bedrooms but they weren't home. I called Two-Bit's house. A tired young voice answered.

"Hey Karen. Sorry to bother you. Is your brother home?"

"_Huh? Hold on...."_ The phone made a muffled noise, went silent then was picked back up._ "No. He ain't here. He might be over at the Curtis place. Want their number?"_

I grinned. Karen was still half asleep. "No thanks. I think I got it. Go back to bed."

I tried Steve's but it just rang._ Great, now what_? I hung up. As I sat there, thinking who else to call, my own phone rang.

"Hello?"

"_Darrel. Bout time you showed up, I've been trying to get in touch with you for nearly an hour. Have you heard what's going down at the Pizza Palace?" _

"Hey Tim. No, was out for a while. Heard there's a hold up, but that's bout it. Why?"

He was strangely silent. _"Darrel. I think you'd better meet me here. Now."_

My insides tightened. "Tell me that ain't Curly."

"_Hell no. That idiot's hanging with some chick he's been seeing for a while. But..." _he hesitated. _"Look, just meet me here. You coming?"_

"Yeah, sure. Hey, you haven't seen my brothers, have you?"

More silence. _"Darrel, just get here."_

The way he said it... those few words … this wasn't going to be good. The silence of the house … its unnatural stillness made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

"I'm on my way."

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	16. Stop Motion

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 16

**Stop Motion**

XXX

Time made no sense. It felt like forever as I crouched in the kitchen, peeking out behind some flour covered counter into the dining area where people had been crammed into booths meant to seat no more than six at a time. Women wore fear like makeup on their faces, even the men looked frightened. Some cried. Kids, and there were several in the room, whimpered in their mother's arms. It was a sea of disbelief, anger, and terror on every face in the room.

And then I saw Sodapop.

He looked straight at the guy, watching intently. He and Steve had their game faces on, their rumble faces, their 'eat shit and die' faces. Separated from them by a few people was Two-Bit, but he had the same look. Glancing around, there were more than a few greasers in the joint, all with the look of disbelief that someone had dared to pull a heater on them.

I was sure there were more than a few blades in the building as well, and I wasn't referring to anything in the kitchen. As usual, when I needed mine, I didn't have it. I didn't take it with me this afternoon before the game as there really isn't any place to store it while I played ball. Not like my team jersey and shorts had any pockets on them.

The gunman paced back and forth, mumbling to himself while screaming out obscenities as he idled around. He also waved that gun, pointing it at random people. His erratic behavior went up a few notches when blue lights suddenly appeared and bounced off the windows. The fuzz was here. He was trapped with nowhere to go. He swore hard and kicked a trash can over, the contents spilling onto the floor near the door. That's when I saw her.

A young woman, maybe nineteen or twenty, lay on the floor by a door, blood pooling around her. She lay still but her fingers twitched – she was still alive. She stared at the ceiling, neither crying nor saying a word, but her eyes screamed her silent pain. Blood bubbled from her mouth when she coughed, dribbling from the corner of her lips. I had a feeling she didn't have much time. Anger filled me. She was right at the damn door, three steps from freedom! From life! Who was this guy to play God and decide who lived and who died? I felt my muscles tense, wanting to fight, wanting to rally.

Then some kid upped the ante, breaking my gaze from the woman. I looked out. The kid, a toddler it looked like, was screaming his head off, terrified as we all were but having no way to control it.

"Shut him up! Shut him UP!" he yelled.

The woman holding him patted his head, kissed him and even held her hand over his mouth, but nothing made that kid stop squalling. The gunman's face contorted, he swung the gun and aimed, cocking it.

And then, time changed again. I don't even remember my motion, my charge across the room. I was tired of death – that much I knew. I just remembered each facet of motion, slowed to a snails pace like an old time movie made of still frames threaded together. He cocked the gun, I bolted, he turned and swung the gun my way, Sodapop and Steve leapt, the hammer fell, and people erupted from everywhere like an ant hill disturbed. Then time and sound came crashing down in a deafening roar as everything sped up again.

"NO!" Screamed familiar voices. My side felt white hot but I couldn't deal with it then. I landed on him, slamming my fist in his face as he backhanded me at the same time, the two of us simultaneously crashing into a table as others either leapt on us to fight or escape. I felt the cold metal of the gun wedge between us, felt him manipulating the hammer and heard the click when it was set. I knew what was coming next.

Another shot rang out and everything stopped.

Motion stopped.

Light stopped.

"Ponyboy," Sodapop sobbed, "NO!"

Then sound stopped as well.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	17. Crossing The Line

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 17

**Crossing The Line**

XXX

It usually didn't take long to get across the strip, but this was Friday night and cars were everywhere. People were also out and about, darting in and out of the road, hopping in cars or leaning in windows; only adding to my frustration and growing sense of dread.

Further up the road at the edge of the strip's range was another traffic jam, all centered around the Pizza Palace. Flashing blue police lights and red ambulance lights attracted spectators like moths; already the crowd was thick. Several drivers were trying to navigate into a narrow parking lot near the restaurant while others had given up and were turning around to leave. The whole thing was causing a traffic log-jam where no one actually got anywhere. A few cops were trying to maintain order by simply refusing anyone in, making everyone circle the lot and leave back onto the strip heading the opposite way.

Eventually, I made it close enough that a cop tapped on my window.

"Sorry sir. Road's closed. You'll have to turn..."

"My brother's in there," I interrupted, my voice and look determined to go forward. He stared at me then pointed at something over to my left.

"You'll have to park here and walk. Road's secured for emergency vehicles only."

He backed away as I turned into the spot. Walking the rest of the way, I gave notice to the people milling about. Some were talking and looking excitedly up the road where the action was, as if expecting a parade. Others further up were watching the scene with concerned interest. When I got as far as I could go - to the police tape surrounding the Pizza Palace's parking lot, the people stood stock-still watching intently, their arms hugging themselves as if frozen in place - dread written on their faces.

"Darrel."

I turned. Tim had shown up next to me and was watching the building too. A couple of his boys were nearby, smoking and looking just as hard at the scene.

The Pizza Palace's windows and doors were made of dark smokey glass and their lights inside were always dim - to provide "atmosphere" for the customers, or so I'd been told. Not that it ever made a bit of difference to me or anyone else I knew. This wasn't Rosewood's; people came here for the food, not the ambiance. However, the resulting effect was no one could see in the place to know what was going on. Right now, it only made things worse.

"What's happening?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"Thought you'd better be here."

"Why?"

He broke his gaze and dropped his butt into the gravel. "That's why." He pointed into the Palace's parking lot, roped off and guarded by a cop. Third row over sat a rusted light blue truck with a distinctive ding in the side panel; a gift from Two-Bit when he accidentally side-swiped a take-out restaurant's speaker - earning him a fist sandwich from Steve. They'd made up for it later, but the truck retained it's unique whack-job.

"And where Steve is....." he started.

"...the rest of the guys would be too." I finished. He nodded and sighed, looking the place over again.

"At first I wasn't certain, thinking maybe Steve was hooking up with his girl, but when you asked where your brothers were, I sort of guessed."

"What's the word?" The cops not directing traffic were milling around not doing a whole hell of a lot. I did notice they all had their hands on their holsters, but that was about it.

"Word is, some lune walked in and started waving a gun around. A few managed to get out." He pointed at the police van parked a good distance away, I guessed the lucky escapee's were there. "Then he started firing. Someone got hit and after that, no one's come out. Fuzz's been watching the place, all the exits are covered. Now it's just a waiting game."

_Damn! Typical of Tulsa's finest. _It made me nervous, thinking of all the things that could have happened. I hated sitting around, waiting. I wanted to _do _something, fix this somehow - get in there and get the boys out! Not sit around and wait.

As if the keepers of destiny had heard my frustration, sudden gunfire inside erupted, turning the scene into a frenzy of action.

Cops ducked, taking aim on the doors. Those of us behind the tape either ducked for cover or ran away. Most importantly, the Palace's doors burst open as people inside fled out into the parking lot to escape.

Tim and me started but neither of us ran, nor did his boys. Instead, I looked carefully at the escaping hostages, searching for familiar faces.

"See them?" I asked aloud, not taking my eyes off the throngs of people running into the distance.

"Nope."

"Shit!" I ducked under the tape headed for the door.

"Hold it son! You can't go in there!" Some cop was yelling at me.

"Officer, I think those hoods are defiling your cruiser!" Tim yelled out, getting the cop off my case. I grinned; his boys – if they were caught and went to jail, would consider it a vacation. Three meals and a cot were a fair price to pay for slashing a tire or keying the paint.

Just inside the doorway, the body of a young woman lay on the floor with blood pooled around her, soaking her Pizza Palace uniform. Cops were busy questioning groups of people in nearly every booth in the place. In one, a shaking woman held a screaming kid while a cop held a pen to his notepad, while in another some men sat stony faced giving their own report. Over at a far table I recognized the red sideburns of Two-Bit as he nodded something to the cop questioning him. Steve sat beside him, hands folded on the table. At that point, I didn't care who was present.

"Steve, Two-Bit; where are they?"

Everyone looked up but before either could answer, I heard Soda call out from the far side of the place -

"Here Darry. Over here."

"Hey, you can't be in here...." another cop insisted, coming out and putting his hand on my shoulder. "This is a crime scene -..."

"... - And my brother is a minor that you're holding from me. Unless he's under arrest, I'm going to see him." _Go ahead, test me,_ I thought. _Give me a real good reason for going to jail. _I was three seconds away from tossing him through the abandoned salad buffet.

"Jackson, let him alone." Some other cop said in a low undertone. I noticed he had more stripes on his sleeve than the jerk cop who tried to hold me back. The cop let go instantly and I went around the partition, seeing both Sodapop and Ponyboy sitting together on a bench.

They both looked rattled. Pony was shirtless as he leaned over, head in his hands with his elbows resting on his knees. His whole frame visibly shook, and despite being shirtless, I doubted it was completely from the cold. Soda had his arm over Pony's shoulder, his face so close that he could have been whispering secrets.

"I told you he would come," I heard Soda murmur. "You know nothing keeps Darry away."

A medic was taping a square bandage to Pony's side, causing my own insides to curl. _How bad is it this time? _"You shot?"

"He ain't 'shot' exactly," Soda answered with a wary look.

"Ponyboy?" I looked him over, the bandage having just a little spot of redness seeping through. He said nothing, just bounced his legs as if an electric current had hit him.

"He blacked out for a few minutes but woke easily with a wave of an ammonia pellet," the medic explained. "He's got a deep grazing from the shot he dodged and a nasty black eye forming, but other than that, I can't find anything medically wrong with him. He's shook up but otherwise okay. If you want, I can take him to the hospital to be examined, but basically it's a bruise and a deep scratch. As long as he's up on his shots, he should be fine."

I debated it but turned him down. "He's current on everything. If something happens, I'll take him in later. Thanks."

The medic shook my hand and left. Pony still hadn't looked up.

"Pone, you okay?" I asked as I stepped closer. He said nothing and didn't look up, but reached out towards me. I took his hand in both of my own, his long thin fingers wrapping around my larger calloused hands. I looked at Sodapop.

"The gunman was gonna shoot a kid," he explained cautiously, watching Pony the whole time. "Pony came at him full-on from behind, but I guess the guy saw him coming and turned, firing at him instead."

I felt my insides liquify, but I held it together for their sake. "At point blank range? Thank God he all but missed." I felt Pony's hand tighten and I stepped even closer, sandwiching him between me and Sodapop.

"He wouldn't have if me and Steve and some other guy – I think the kid's father – hadn't tackled him first. Bastard still managed to get another shot off. It was close ... it was too close." Soda's low voice had a hitch but he didn't explain anything else. His eyes were tinged red, shut them hard and blinked away whatever it was. He squeezed Pony's shoulder, rubbing his arm as if to break the spell hovering over them. It must have worked, Pony's tremors slowed.

"Where's the robber?"

"Dead," Pony's voice softly cracked, finally looking up. His eyes were huge and he had one heck of a shiner forming. He looked at me then turned his attention to something behind me and froze. I turned to see the body of the woman still there; covered now, but the sheet was soaked with blood. In the same view, on the floor by a broken and toppled table lay a second body, also covered, his black shoes sticking out from under the white sheet. The shooter, I assumed.

"How is he?"

I turned to see Steve and Two-Bit approaching, their interrogation apparently over.

"He'll be fine. Come on, let's get out of here."

I tugged at Pony's hand, motioning for him to get to his feet before slipping my coat over him. His own shirt - which Soda held, had blood on it. Who's, I didn't know. No one said anything as we walked out the side door and crossed the lot, but I felt eyes on us anyway. There were still plenty of people hanging around; Tim included. He and his guys were still hanging out, watching. I nodded to Tim and he nodded back, but the questions would wait for now.

Steve managed to get his truck out and left with Two-Bit, while Soda and I walked Pony to our truck just out of the police line. Gawkers watched from a distance but I led Pony on, saying nothing to anyone. I had to get my brothers home.

Pony slid wordlessly into the middle, his usual spot since he was the smallest of us. I was beginning to think it didn't matter anymore where they sat. While Pony was still the thinnest of us, he'd been getting longer in the leg for months and had to sit somewhat cockeyed so as to not rub against the gear shift. Still, I think he likes it this way, content in the middle. It was obvious after I got in that he didn't want to switch with Sodapop; he leaned against me while gripping Soda's hand next to him. No one said a word.

"How's your side?" I asked once home.

"Fine," he said, not looking up. He was still wearing my coat and made no motion to take it off. I was wanting to look at his side, needing to know how much of a "scrape" he had and not believing his "fine" for a minute.

"Let me take a look at your side, Pone."

He looked around, lost almost, but slipped off my coat and lay on the couch. I pealed the tape off the bandage, noticing his eyes wincing as the tape also pulled his skin.

"Sorry," I said softly. "I ain't trying to hurt you."

"I know. It's okay," he answered back, eyes still closed.

The one inch wide furrowed scratch wasn't bleeding anymore, but was red. I smeared on more cream before putting a new bandage over it, taping it lightly. "Looks good, Pone," I encouraged. He nodded. I looked at the clock, it was late. "Want to watch the late show with me?"

He sat up so I could sit by him, but instead of him moving away – he moved closer and leaned against me again, his head resting on my chest. He didn't look at me or ask if it was okay, nor did I mind. For whatever reason, he wanted to be in my company and I wasn't going to turn him away. He shivered, goosebumps rising on his skin. I used my coat and draped it over him then reached up to flip the light off. Before long, his breathing was steady and light, his hands curled against my chest.

Carefully, I stroked his hair and he didn't wake. He was using less grease than he used to, only enough to keep the fine waviness he'd inherited from Mom hidden from those who didn't know him like we did. It struck me how young he still was. Fifteen wasn't very old afterall. It's a transition age, when a kid struggles to be free from their parents yet still needing their guidance – and security - when shit hits the fan. He was 0 for 2 again. We'd had our parents snatched from us, and being shot at was definitely a load of shit.

I felt really bad then, knowing I had once again started taking him for granted. I never was good with words like he is, or could show emotion without looking sissified like Sodapop could. Even talking with him about stuff had all but ground to a halt again. Simply put, I didn't know how to tell him how proud I am of him, or even that I loved him.

To make matters worse, I was also getting selfish - wanting to spend time with Michelle when I should have been spending it with my brothers. I should have gone to the game when I got off work or met up with them afterward. Instead, I wanted to be in her company, alone.

Sodapop might understand - since he was once all head over heals in love with Sandy, but I doubted Ponyboy could grasp that need. I didn't know how to tell him this, how to explain it so he'd get it. His fledgling affection for Linda was still too much in its infancy for him to fully appreciate what I needed and why. Being his brother, I wasn't even sure I _should_ tell him, or if I_ had _to.

Dad didn't have to explain to me why he and Mom would go out alone, I understood. They were adults with three kids who never gave them a minute of peace. Enough said. However, didn't I – as an adult - deserve some alone time with a woman too? I sighed; if there were such a thing, I doubted any of this would be included in the "How To Be A Good Guardian To Your Siblings" manual.

"Darry, you seen..." Soda started to ask something but stopped when he came in the living room and found us, Pony laying against my chest, asleep, with me softly stroking his hair. "Want me to take him?" he asked.

I grinned. "Take him where? You can't carry him."

"I know.. but, you want to take him to my room? I'll lay with him."

"No. Not tonight." I looked down at him, his fingers gently flexing as if playing a slow song on the piano - a habit of his when he slept. "We'll be fine. Get my blanket off my bed for me though."

Soda got it and spread it over us. He turned off the lights and, after a second of hesitation, carefully lifted Pony's legs and slid in on the opposite side of the couch. We both held him, neither letting him go.

"Night Darry," Soda whispered.

"Night Sodapop." I whispered back. I looked down at Ponyboy in the gray shadows of night. "Night Ponyboy." I put my arms around him, leaned my head back and went to sleep.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	18. Lost In Details

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 18

**Lost In Details**

XXX

"Whoa." The story was on the first page of the second section. The kid just can't escape being in the news.

Two-Bit was laughing. "Kid made the papers again, didn't he?"

"Yup." I scanned the article again as we walked to the Curtis place. "They only mentioned his name once though, saying he'd been wounded, nothing about being the 'unsung hero' of the night. That should keep reporters and gawkers away, making Darry a little happier."

"Lets just hope their social worker won't put it all together."

"I hope not."

The place was quiet as we rounded the corner. Usually, this being a Sunday, the blinds were open and music spilled out. Even Two-Bit noticed the silence.

"Think they're up?" he asked as we took the steps two at a time.

I opened the door, surprised at what I saw. I hit Two-Bit on the chest to get his attention then put my finger to my lips; he frowned but stayed quiet. From the doorway, we could both see the kid and Darry zonked on the couch; the kid using Superman's chest as a pillow.

"Want breakfast?"

Soda's low voice startled me. I opened the door further.

"Everything okay here?" Two-Bit asked softly as he shoved past me. I looked at the kid and Muscles, then at Soda, and back at the sleeping duo. Had the world spun off its axis?

"Yeah. Don't ask me to explain_ that _though," he pointed the end of his butter knife toward the couch. "I'm not exactly sure about it myself."

"Pony okay? That hit he took was pretty bad." Two-Bit pushed as he shoved a sausage patty down his throat.

Soda gave his brothers a long glance. "The bleeding's stopped."

He said nothing more, but it didn't take a genius to realize the real question hadn't been answered. "He's tough. He'll be fine." I hoped Soda would hear my unspoken words. He looked at me, gave a halfhearted grin and nodded. He had.

"Kid made the paper again." Two-Bit held over the paper while I noticed Darry stretching from his cramped position on the couch. He carefully lifted the kid up and shuffled out from under him, heading our way.

"Morning Darry," Soda mumbled absentmindedly while scanning the article. Darry took the spatula, stirring the scrambled eggs.

"Green eggs? Who are you, Dr. Seuss?" Darry answered before reaching for his coffee pot.

"No ham, only sausage," he said with a grin, laying the paper aside. "Then again, it's all from the same animal."

"You need help," Darry muttered as the pot began to perk. He saw the paper and froze, his eyes scanning it. As his eyes went back and forth, I noticed the kid squirm and stretch on the couch.

"The colt's awake."

Several pairs of eyes turned.

"Morning squirt. How ya feeling?" Two-Bit called over, the flair of fun brought down a notch; sounding almost sincere.

He didn't answer or look up right away.

"Ponyboy?" Darry called from the kitchen's doorway.

"I'm fine."

Not that the kid had ever been a morning person, but the image he gave was one that screamed the opposite. His unwashed, uncombed hair stuck out in all directions while a fine patchwork of adolescent stubble shadowed his jawline. But it was more than that. The kid literally looked lost sitting there on his couch. It was the same expression he'd had a little over a year ago, a look that didn't go away for a long time - and one I'd hoped I'd never see again. I doubted any of us forgot that look. When death came calling, it always hit the kid the hardest.

And _this_ time, it was the kid himself who'd twice stared down the barrel of a gun.

Not that he'd gotten away unscathed. He'd been shot at and grazed, pretty damn lucky considering it had been at point blank range. The bandage the medic had put on him had fallen off, leaving a bruised gash about the length and width of my pinkie finger on his side. It wasn't bleeding but wasn't scabbed completely over either. Just raw flesh on his side. If the gunman had swung an inch more before pulling the trigger, there was no doubt in my mind the kid wouldn't be here right now.

Darry was giving him the eagle eye, Sodapop throwing long glances too. I guess the looks and unusual silence wigged out the kid. He got up and headed to the bathroom without a word more.

Darry turned and got his mug, pouring himself some Joe. "Okay, now that he's out of the room, someone fill me in on what the hell happened in the Pizza Palace."

Without moving my head, I looked around. Seemed no one wanted to speak.

"Pony left for a bit while we were ordering." Soda started, stirring the eggs rather hard. "While he was gone, some guy came in, waving a gun and wanting money. Those closest to the doors took off."

"A couple made it out," I continued, "but then the guy started shooting, hitting a waitress. She went down hard. Some guy – the manager, I think, started to go to her, but he pointed the gun and dared him to try it. "

"After that," added Two-Bit, "no one moved. The gunman made us all cram in some booths, going on about how he'd rather spend time in the pen for robbery than in the forests of 'Nam."

"You mean this was all about Vietnam?" Darry's face contorted.

"I looked for Pony but couldn't find him. I thought," Soda's voice caught, he swallowed and continued on, "I thought_ maybe_ he'd made it out. Then the robber pointed the gun at some kid ..."

"... Pony came out of nowhere, jumping on that guy. You know how he has a soft spot for kids...." Two-Bit jumped in, shaking his head.

"The gunman must have seen him coming, turned and fired at him instead." I finished.

"It was all so quick – seemed everyone saw their chance to beat it out. Me, Soda, Steve and some other guy - say, who _was _that guy?"

"... I think he was the screaming kid's father, but who knows....."

"Anyway," Soda interrupted, "for a second, everyone was running around trying to get out. The three of us and that other guy rushed the gunman as he fought with Ponyboy, but he pistol whipped Pony before we could stop him, then pulled the gun around when Pony still wouldn't let go."

"I saw the gun and heard the hammer click, looping my arm under his -" I started.

" - we _both_ did," corrected Two-Bit.

"... and wrenched his arm before he fired. Still... it looked...." I didn't want to finish.

"I didn't think we'd stopped him in time," Two-Bit said with a sick look on his face, flipping a bottle lid in the trash with wide eyes.

"It _looked_ like Pony'd... like he'd killed him." Soda said, the eggs done but not looking up.

Darry reached over and took the pan off the stove, watching Sodapop carefully.

"Two-Bit and I looked the kid over top to bottom, but couldn't find no holes, just that gash in his side. Still, the kid was out cold." There was silence for a few seconds, and while I don't know about anyone else, the memories made goose bumps rise on my skin. "The whole thing happened so quick. A blur, really." I wasn't just saying that for Darry's sake, it really seemed to have happened in an instant. Hard to believe it took place over a minute or two.

"The medic showed up after that, waving those ammonia pellets under his nose, waking him up fast. Man those things are strong! Anyway, the cops pulled us away after that, wanting our story." Two-Bit finished with a swig of his drink.

"Me and the medic hauled Pony over to the bench. I didn't want him near that guy; dead or alive."

"So who shot the guy?" Darry asked, realizing there was still a missing piece. I looked at Two-Bit and Sodapop, neither saying a word. A silent pause filled the kitchen as Darry waited for an answer. However, somebody had to say something. Darrel Curtis Junior was not the type to let this slide.

"He shot himself," I offered. Two-Bit looked at me sharply, Soda turned and stared too. "After me and Two-Bit pulled the guys arm, the barrel must have turned and he killed himself." It was the same thing we'd told the cops last night, the same thing they'd told the reporters later after we left – thankfully leaving our names out of it; and the same thing they'd printed in the morning edition, laying on the counter top.

"He killed _himself_?" Darry questioned in disbelief.

"Yep. He killed himself." Soda finalized. No one moved for a moment until the water in the shower turned off down the hall.

Darry looked at all of us, his jaw flexing with each separate gaze. He was smart,_ too_ smart; but reading his mind was impossible. However, he didn't pursue the matter anymore. The door opened and a towel-draped Ponyboy came out, heading to his room. He reappeared a few minutes later – shaved, dressed, and hair combed.

Darry stopped him as he came in, hooking his chin with his finger.

"Hurt?" he asked, looking at the still-swollen eye.

Pony slightly shook his head. Like the true greaser he still tries to be, he shook off his pain and didn't complain. "I'm fine."

Darry stared at him a moment longer, but the kid sidestepped out of his way and looked at the pan.

"Whaddya do to the eggs?" he asked with a wrinkled nose.

"I fixed them," Soda said with a wide smile. "Here, try some." He held some out on the edge of the spoon, but the kid pulled his head away like a turtle retreating into his shell.

"Nuh-uh. Thanks anyway."

"Eat something, kiddo. I don't care what." Darry said flatly. Pony gave him a look and reached for the bread.

"Toast. Real healthy." Two-Bit teased. I smirked.

"Mind your own beeswax," the kid mumbled.

"Anyone up for a quick game of ball?" Darry asked suddenly.

"Hell yeah!" Two-Bit burst. Even I was glad for a change of topic. "We haven't done that in ages."

"Yeah, but you and I can't stay long, we got to go to work, remember," Soda cautioned, elbowing me.

"A quick game. Just a few tosses. Pony, you too." Darry said, poking his brother on the shoulder.

"Darry, I-"

"No argument. Eat your toast so we can go."

Darry bandaged the kid's side while the rest of us downed some rather sickening looking eggs, then we all headed out to the lot for a while – Curtis number three included. I had to give him credit, Darry was nearly twisting the kid's arm to make him join us. Otherwise, well... with his history, he would probably hunker down in the house with his books and drawing pads and not come out until the end of winter. Thankfully, winter was almost over anyway.

It was me, Soda and Two-Bit against Pony and Darry. Lopsided as ever. Darry would lob the ball to Pony and with his running speed it was usually rare for any of us to catch him. But he was off his game and catching him was easy. Soda, though, was the only one on our side willing to tackle him. When he took him down, Soda usually ended it with his fingers jabbed in the kid's giggle spots, leaving his gashed side alone. The result was comical, not that I'd ever admit it. I shook my head, hiding a smirk; the NFL would have fired us all.

"Okay... okay, you win!" Pony laughed as Soda brought him down for the third time. "Steve... pass the ball to Soda next time... let me have a chance to make him suffer some!"

"Cool it, kid." I teased.

"Love to stay and play more, but we got to get to work." Soda announced, brushing the dirt and leaves from his clothes.

"Saved!" Two-Bit chuckled, tossing the ball away.

"Wimp," Darry chortled. "Hey Pony, go long."

The kid headed out to the perimeter of the lot while Soda and I headed around the corner to get my car. "Think he'll be okay?"

"I hope so." Soda shrugged. I had no answer either. At least for now, the kid was out of the house.

"What's this?" Soda asked as he settled in the front seat. I cringed, forgetting to put the packet away.

"It's something I've been thinking of. Just … an idea I was fooling around with."

He opened it and slid out some papers. "It's a college application, Steve," he surmised.

"Technical school, not college. Not like it's Yale or nothing."

"Still... you planning to go?"

I couldn't look at him, couldn't face him. For years we had done everything together, been inseparable since nearly ten years old. Hell, I knew more secrets about him than either of his brothers did. But this was one I'd kept from him.

"I might."

He looked at the papers spilled on his lap then slid them carefully back in the envelope.

"That's good," he said, the hollowness of his voice audible.

"Soda, the mechanic's course they offer is just a certification program, a year at most to complete. Then I can work on bigger stuff besides what pulls in for tune-ups."

"You should do it, Steve. You're smart enough. Where ya gonna get the money for it though?"

This was the question I wasn't wanting to answer. Not yet. "I have no idea."

He gave a one-sided grin, one that said he wasn't convinced. "Well, graduation is still a few months off. When you win the lottery, don't forget the little people."

I grinned too as I pulled into the DX. "_You_ will never be forgotten, Sodapop. Ever."

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	19. Riding The Clutch

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 19

**Riding The Clutch**

XXX

I squinted my eyes into the morning sun. Darry'd been on my case for ages that doing so was bad for my eyes, but what can I say? I'm hardheaded and don't listen. And thanks to that trip to the Pizza Palace, Social Services had been by to check on us twice – since they were "in the neighborhood." The first time was the Monday after the shooting. I was doing my homework when the doorbell rang....

"Hold on!" I opened the door then stood there; mouth agape, feet rooted in place.

"Afternoon, Ponyboy." Mrs. O' Donovan smiled. "Goodness, you've put on quite a few inches! May I come in?"

Yeah. Right. Nothing tells the overworked Social Services department to start snooping in on custodial cases like having one of the kids get shot at. _Not my damn fault, _I kept thinking. _And if I hadn't stopped him, he'd have killed that kid._ What do I get for my trouble? Editorials in the paper and a lot of trouble.

At least we'd had the house cleaned up. Granted, the trash can needed to be emptied and my desk was a mess, but the rest of the place looked decent enough. Both Darry and Soda had been at work when she showed.

"You want me to get Darry over here?" I'd asked.

"Oh no, that's not necessary. I just wanted to stop by, see how you were getting along. Everything okay?"

Like I didn't know the codes by now.

"Yes ma'am. I mean, we're doing swell. Sodapop's probably going to get another raise soon, and Darry's got steady work at both his jobs. School's going okay for me too."

She smiled, knowing I wasn't answering the real question she was silently asking, but I wasn't going to just say... _Yeah, I got shot at - but like a cat with nine lives, I survived yet again. Shall I go pack my bag now?_

"I heard you were on the basketball team. How's that going?"

She caught me off-guard with that question, and I smiled in spite of myself. "How did you....?"

She grinned back. "It's in the newspaper, Ponyboy. I follow the school teams too."

That left me speechless. And embarrassed. She laughed a little, came over and patted me on the back. For some reason, I didn't really mind it. She looked at her watch, then readjusted her overly large purse on her shoulder.

"Look at the time, I really have to go. Tell your brothers I came by and give them this...." she handed me a paper with something scribbled on it. "And you be sure to call me if you need anything. It's good to see you again, Ponyboy. Bye now."

I put the paper on the table and went back to my homework, but couldn't shake the feeling that she was actually sincere when she mentioned reading about my games. Hours later when Darry and Sodapop came home, he looked at the paper and sighed.

"What's up?" Soda'd asked.

"Quarterly inspection. You both know what that means, so no funny business. Soda, get all those rusting car parts out of the back yard; Pony, I want your room spotless. We have a week."

That week went by rather fast. Soda and Darry both worked on the back yard; Soda hauled all the spare car parts that never seem to belong anywhere to the junkyard where he'd sold it all for scrap; while Darry rearranged his various ladders and wheelbarrows from one spot to another. I tackled the inside – washing various handprints made out of who-knows-what off the walls, scrubbing spots off the furniture and cleaning the ice-box. We all worked on our own rooms a little each day. Between all that, I was still going to school and getting my homework done, managing to go to basketball practice too.

In short, I was staying busy. I didn't want to stop. I didn't want to think. Every time I did, I saw that gun pointed at me. I heard it firing....

The second visit by Mrs. O' Donovan was done with her and another social worker we didn't know. Tulsa CPS makes another social worker come in to do the big inspections, just so there's no preferential treatment. The woman with Mrs. O' Donovan was snooty, in my own opinion. Definitely from the West Side, judging by how high her nose went as soon as she saw our place. She roamed the house as if she were buying it, scrutinizing everything while saying nothing. I didn't like it, but I couldn't do squat about it.

"The milk is about to expire," she commented when looking in our fridge. Never mind Darry had just bought grocery the night before and there was a fresh gallon next to it. "These window's are very drafty in the child's bedroom."

I cringed and my eyes narrowed. Soda saw me and shook his head slightly. I kept my trap shut, simmering on the inside instead. The "drafty" window had been "drafty" for years; nothing Darry could do about it unless he wanted to replace the whole window itself. I usually stuck a rolled up towel along the sill, stopping the draft when the weather was that bad. Otherwise, it never bothered me.

Darry and Soda were both there, all three of us dressed better than our usual jeans and pull-over T's. Darry said nothing about the window, no explanation would suffice anyway.

"Mr. Ponyboy, are these yours?" She asked, coming out of my room holding the partially crumpled pack of smokes I'd kept since that night. I thought I'd put them in my desk drawer, but honestly, I couldn't be certain. I only knew they weren't just sitting out in the open. Right away, all eyes were on me; the looks my brothers were throwing made my insides cringe. I hadn't told them about the cigarettes.

"Yes. They're old though."

She looked at me over the rim of her glasses as if I were dog poo that she'd stepped in.

"He quit smoking almost a year ago," Darry tried. _Too late_, I wanted to say. _She ain't buying it. _Right then, I didn't care what she thought of me, but I cared how Darry was perceived – and I could tell this broad didn't care at all for any of us. I also cared what Darry thought of me, and he looked disappointed again. Royally disappointed. She'd sat the smokes on the table where they stayed while she continued her evaluation, later I palmed them and hid them again in my room.

In the end, we received a decent grade. Passing - enough to keep the vultures at bay for another few months at least. Mrs. O' Donovan had called Darry with the news, to which he gave a great sigh of relief; and life began it's monotonous drift back to normal.

Only for me, normal was made up of restless nights and overly busy days. I tried hard not to sit still. Sitting still left me with nothing to do but think, and thinking lead me to remember that night. But at this hour of the day, when nothing but shadows moved as the sun's rays reached out to touch the earth; sitting still was all there was to do.

So I sat and watched as the sky turned from gray to orange, then to yellow - and finally to light blue. Morning had arrived, the drab colors of everyday life painting the world again. I shivered.

"You need a jacket, Pone." It was a statement not a question; yet Soda's soft voice behind me was a surprise. He was looking at me from inside the screened door.

"How long you been there?"

"Oh, long enough." He stepped out onto the back porch and sat next to me on the stoop. He eyed the crumpled pack of smokes and the lighter in my hand, neither used. "Wanna talk?"

I shook my head. "Bout what?"

He shrugged. "Bout anything. You've been real busy lately. Haven't seen much of you around."

"Yeah you have. I'm home every night, ten o'clock sharp."

He grinned. "Where you been hiding at?"

I didn't really have a good answer. "Library mostly. Basketball court if the weather ain't too cold." I didn't bother listing the various other places I'd been hanging out. I didn't have one hang-out spot anymore, just sort of drifted around.

He looked out at Mom's budding Tulips that still insisted on returning. She had planted them the fall before they'd died and never got to see them. Now in their second year, they were making their appearance once again - defiant little buggers. Neither Soda nor Darry tended to that small corner of the yard – the flower box just sat there, usually forgotten and ignored - and in truth, all I did was keep the weeds out of it. Still, it was apparently enough.

"You're spending too much time alone, Pone. You know that, right?"

I didn't bother answering, just stared at the green tips of the flowers. He finally nodded towards the pack in my hand.

"You start up again?"

"No." Trust me, the temptation was brutal. Why I kept them, I didn't know. I just couldn't toss them away either.

He sighed, then reached over and took the pack from my hands, smoothing out the package.

"Then why?"

"You don't believe me." I said softly, not exactly asking it.

He looked at me carefully then nodded. "Yeah I do. You ain't smoking."

I looked at him and he smiled softly.

"I would be able to smell it if you were. You ain't. Darry knows you ain't smoking either. Just, what are these for? Some old pack of yours from long ago?"

"They're from that night, at the Pizza Palace." I rested my elbows on my raised knees, then lay my head in my arms, tired.

"That wasn't your fault, kiddo." Soda said carefully, pocketing the smokes. I simply nodded. "And if you hadn't been there... well, that kid is lucky. Real lucky."

I closed my eyes, wishing I could turn off sound. "Please stop, Sodapop. I don't want to talk about it."

_BAM!_

I started, grabbing Soda's hand as my heart raced and my breath came in jerky gasps. Inside the house, I heard laughter as Steve showed up, I guess he and Darry were wrestling around.

"It's just the door, Pone," Soda explained the obvious. I nodded and let go. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine." My head hurt and my eyes burned for sleep, but he didn't need to know that.

"Come on, lets go get breakfast." He stood, stretched and waited. I didn't want to get up and I certainly didn't want to eat. But I knew if I didn't, he'd never get off my case. I stood, resigned to destiny and followed Soda inside.

"I made pancakes. Enjoy." Darry called out, taking his own plate to the table. Soda got himself a stack while I just looked at them. Soda gave me a long glance then slid two on my plate, shoved a fork in my hand and gave me a nudge. I followed him to the table, knowing if I didn't eat them, they'd probably feed them to me like a kid.

"So what's your plans for the day, Pone?" Darry asked.

"Thought I'd run. Track's starting up soon, coach wants us in shape."

"Kid, like you ain't been running nonstop since last season ended," Steve kicked my chair with his foot.

"Distance running isn't the same as basketball," I explained.

"Steve and me are going to the truck show. You wanna come Dar?"

He shook his head. "Nope, Michelle and I are going out. Say, who's cooking dinner?"

They both looked at me. "I guess it's my turn."

"Oh yum. Peanut butter and jelly..." Steve muttered under his breath. I noticed he was standing on one foot, reached over and shoved him. He caught his balance faster than I thought and before I knew it, he had me pinned under him, my face smooshed on the floor.

"Think you're tough, huh, ya little grease....!"

I struggled some, trying to jam my elbow in his side, but he had me pinned too well. My effort was useless.

"Nobody said you had to eat here." I muffled out.

"You need to learn to respect your elders, little boy!" He teased with an extra squeeze of my pinned chest then got off me. Darry hadn't stopped eating the entire time, Soda had at least put down his fork. Both were grinning.

I sat back down, looked at my plate then took my breakfast to the trash, scraping it away. Along with my turn to cook, it was also my turn for dishes. I started the sink and piled them in, making the water extra hot.

Soda came and chucked me on my back, rinsing his plate off before letting it sink to the bottom of the water.

"Soda... come on, man. Lets go!" Steve bellowed from the living room.

"You sure you're okay, Pone? You can come to the truck show. They're supposed to have a mud bog too. That'll be tuff."

"Nah. You go. See you tonight."

He chucked me again and turned, grabbing his wallet on the way out.

XXX

"You got anymore dirty laundry hiding in places I don't know about?" Darry called from down the hall. I dried my hands to go see what he was talking about.

"Huh?"

He was holding the hamper, looking in my room. "I'm washing clothes. You got anything besides what's in your basket? I ain't going hunting for your dirty clothes, so if you have any, bring them out now."

I pulled my sweats from my bookbag and took them to the laundry machine, helping him sort the clothes. When we were done, I turned to head back to the kitchen, but his voice called me back.

"Hey Ponyboy, why don't you get your shoes on and come with me."

"Where to?"

He smirked. "Don't ask, just do it."

I gave him a distrustful look, wondering if it was time for the dentist or perhaps some school physical, but he just laughed.

"Come on, kiddo. I think you'll like it."

He drove us out to Bryler Park, an all but abandoned park way out on the far side of town. He didn't bother parking, just stopped and got out, coming over to my side. "Go get in the driver's seat."

"Seriously?"

He smiled. "Yeah, seriously. You've watched me and Sodapop drive for long enough. I'm not going to be your chauffeur forever, ya know. Time you got behind the wheel and learned how too."

I slid over, Darry taking my old spot. "First things first. Check your mirrors, make sure you can see what's behind you." I did, surprised at how far I had to move them from where Darry keeps them. He still had a lot of height on me. "Now adjust the seat....." he waited until I could reach the brake okay. "Now for the hard part, starting the engine."

I grinned.

"Make sure it's in first or neutral, push both the clutch and brake in, then turn the key until it catches."

I did, the engine roaring to life. I guess I was a little too happy.

"Don't get cocky yet, that wasn't the hard part. Now, let off the brake, then - at the same time - slightly push the gas while letting off the clutch. Not too hard or you'll....."

The truck jerked forward, Darry having to brace hard against the dash to keep from sliding into it. "Oops, sorry."

".... make it jump. That's okay, try again, just use less pressure."

It took me a few tries to get it right, the steps more a choreographed dance than what it looked like from the passenger seat. Eventually, I had it going.

"Now shifting into second is easier, just let off the gas, push in the clutch and shift the gear – then carefully push in the gas while letting off the clutch again."

Within an hour, he had gone over the basics of driving. I was okay – sort of – going forward, but reverse had me all discombobulated. Darry even seemed to relax – well, he let go of the dashboard anyway.

"Not bad, Pony. Still needs a lot of practice, but decent."

"You gonna let me get my license?"

Darry smirked. "Not anytime soon. You've got a ways to go, and I can't really afford to put you on the insurance right now." He looked over at me, knuckling my shoulder. "Eventually though, but not right now. Go ahead and pull over, time to switch and head home. Michelle's expecting me in an hour or so."

We left Bryler Park in a cloud of dust, the ride silent between us as the radio filled the void. "Thanks, Darry," I managed before the silence got too thick again.

"You're welcome, Ponyboy."

Funny how we could talk about a task being done – like laundry or driving lessons, but regular conversation was out of our realm. It wasn't the same for him and Sodapop. I wished I knew why.

He took me home, got ready and left in a rush. It would be hours before anyone came back, so I changed into my sweat clothes and pulled on my running shoes. I hoped a few hours of pounding the pavement would clear my head, however, a backfiring car nearby stopped me cold as shivers ran up my spine. My breath hitched as I stumbled, tripping over my feet as I fell to the pavement. My skinned hands bled a little, my pride more wounded than anything else this time. _It's a car, it's a car, it's a car_... I chanted to myself, forcing myself to calm down. I blinked hard and resumed my pace, wishing for all the world I could just move on like everyone else had.

Or maybe, just wishing I could be like everyone else and not care.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	20. Fouled

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 20

**Fouled**

XXX

"Curtis, get your head in the game!"

Groan. I_ had _my head in the game. Two missed passes does not constitute my head being in the clouds! "Tell _them _to pay attention!" I mouthed back. Shouldn't have done that. Coach called a time out and sent in Wallace – our other point guard. Coach glared at me but didn't say anything more. Someone handed me a towel and I sat down, my eyes on the hardwood while I caught my breath, then looked up to watch the end of this particular disaster unfold.

It was our last game and we were losing. We'd lost other games, sure, but a win tonight would have sent us to regionals. Wallace did his best, bad knee and all, but his coordination was off by a mile and he couldn't hit a three pointer if the goal was level with his height and no one covered him.

The buzzer sounded, the game over. We'd lost by 14 points. And just to throw salt in the open wound, Darry had actually come to watch with the rest of the gang. I looked in the stands at him; Steve and Two-Bit animating something while Soda laughed, Darry sending a pitiful sorry-for-your-loss smile my way. I got up and headed to the locker room, wanting to get my things and leave.

Coach was there, his pep talk in full stride despite everyone ignoring him. "Good game... We'll do better next year ... Excellent effort by everyone ... I'm real proud, no matter the score...."

I took a quick shower and changed into my regular clothes, tossed my uniform in my bag and headed out.

"Ponyboy, a word, please."

Great. Coach was sure to lay into me thick for mouthing off. I didn't know if we'd have won, but I think I could have done better than Wallace. Guess I was going to get it for mouthing off to him earlier. He took me to his office and sat at his desk while I stood there holding my bag in both hands in front of me, waiting.

"You played well your first year. I think things could have gone better, but that's why it's a team – everyone gets a chance to play. We win as a team, or lose as one. Now that the basketball season is over, it's time to move on. Are you planning on suiting up for track again?"

I looked up, surprised. "Yes sir. Practice is tomorrow, right?"

He grinned. "Yes, Ponyboy, it is. I guess I can look forward to seeing you on the oval then?"

I nodded my head. "Yes sir."

"Good. I didn't want this loss tonight to discourage you. May I make one recommendation?"

"Yes?"

"If I give you an order - even if you don't agree with it, do it and don't argue back. You're too talented for the sidelines. Understand?"

And there it was. The only reprimand from my coach in two years. "Yes sir."

"Good. Now, get out of here and get some rest. You played hard and you look exhausted."

He had no idea how little sleep I got at night anymore. "Night, sir."

The guys were waiting for me in the parking lot – Darry doesn't wait by the back door like Steve, not wanting to earn the ire of the police.

"Coach pissed you guys lost?" Two-Bit asked.

"No. He was asking me if I was going to be there tomorrow for track practice."

"Amazing, that man never lets up!" Soda said.

"Well, lets go home. I made ribs and potato salad earlier. You guys coming?"

"Ribs? Heck yeah!" Two-Bit yelped.

Steve shook his head. "Can't, but thanks anyway. Evie's waiting on me at the bowling alley. See you guys tomorrow." He waved and headed to his truck.

"Night, Steve," we called out while Darry fished the keys from his pocket, tossing them to Sodapop. Two-Bit and Darry hopped in the back while Soda climbed in behind the wheel. "Come on, Ponyboy. I'm hungry."

He started the truck and revved the engine, earning a stern rapping on the back window by Darry.

"If he wanted to drive, he shouldn't have tossed me the keys," Soda muttered, putting it in gear and heading out. "Good game, Pone. Why'd coach pull you out in the last quarter?"

"Cause I got mouthy with him. The guys weren't paying attention when I passed them the ball, letting it get away from us too many times. Coach blamed me. I told him the guys needed to step up, that it wasn't my fault. He didn't like it and sent in Wallace instead."

"Oh. Guess it don't pay to tick off the coach, huh?"

I rubbed my head. "Nope, it don't."

"Well, the season is over. You played good, even if you didn't win. Maybe you'll letter next year."

I gave a weak smile. "Maybe."

"You okay?"

I looked up, his concerned expression staring down at me. "Yeah. Headache."

"Take some Tylenol when we get home. Eat something, then go to bed. You've been staying up a lot lately, hitting the books more than usual. Even for you, that's saying a lot. What's up? You trying to better Darry's old record - going for a perfect string of A's this year?"

"Just trying to do my best," I answered. It was nowhere near the truth.

I knew what Soda was talking about. The memories were fading, but I still remember Mom and Dad making a fuss about Darry's perfect report card when he was in high school. Soda obviously never came close – nor, I think, did he care; but my reasons for the long study sessions were far different from just wanting good grades. I simply didn't want to sleep.

It usually took me forever to nod off, tossing and turning as I tried to shut off thought and memory. When I did manage to get to sleep, it usually wasn't very restful as I woke up often; sweat soaked and shivering, heart racing from something powerful yet dark in my dreams. Telling that to anyone, however, was sure to draw the frustration of brothers; not to mention incorrigible behind-my-back teasing from the guys.

I'd almost shed that immature kid-needs-his-security-blanket-brother rep that Steve and Two-Bit thankfully kept to themselves, and I had no intention of going back to it. Still, some nights it was all I could do to _not_ go find Soda to curl up next to. I knew he probably wouldn't care if I did and would never judge me for it, but I had to get a grip on my demons. I just didn't know how.

He pulled up at the house and parked, then reached over and took my arm as I opened my door. "Well,_ try_ to do your best, but don't forget to have fun too. Live a little... it's okay. Kapeesh?"

I rubbed my forehead. "Sure."

I grabbed my bag and headed to my room, swiping the pill bottle from the bathroom on the way. Between my headache, my weariness from the game, stress from forcing myself to stay up late every night, and a touch of hunger; I was done for. The pills kicked in quick. As soon as I lay down against my bed's cooled sheets, my eyes drooped shut and I was out. I hadn't bothered to clean up or even undress.

XXX

"Ponyboy?" I looked around, Soda was hamming it up with Two-Bit but where was Ponyboy?

"I think he's in his room, Dar." Soda called back, looking for the cards in the drawer.

His door was pulled but inside, I found him stretched on his bed, face down and out like a light. I pulled his shoes off and covered him up, then went back to the kitchen.

"You in or out?" Soda asked, shuffling.

"In."

"Ponyboy coming back out?" Two-Bit asked.

"Nope." I pulled my chair out and sat down. "He's asleep."

"Wow, the kid can go from sixty to zero in less time than I can blink. He doing okay?"

"He just needs some rest," I answered while Soda passed out the cards.

Soda raised his eyebrows. "I ain't so sure bout that."

"Oh? You know something I don't?" I asked while Two-Bit tossed in some pennies to start the game.

"I know plenty of things you don't," he teased, "but now ain't the time to go into that."

"Bullshit, Sodapop. Even Darry's catching up to your shenanigans. You really need to get a new girl and get back in the swing of things, if you catch my drift." Two-Bit waggled his eyebrows, his meaning clear.

"Your 'drift' probably has an infection by now, Two-Bit." Soda shot back, then discarded the seven of hearts.

"You're both grossing me out. Sodapop, what's wrong with Ponyboy?"

"I ain't for certain, but I think his nightmares are coming back."

Instant. Fear. "Do NOT tell me that." I looked at him but he said nothing, just arranged the cards in his hand. "Sodapop? Don't be saying it if you ain't sure. Why? What makes you think so?" If anything frightens me, it's Pony's penchant for nightmares. They started when our parents died and came and went with no explanation at all. Some nights would be normal, others would find him screaming his head off and sweating as if he were feverish, shaking for hours without being cold. It'd cost me a small fortune taking him to doctors who gave me nothing but useless advice. For the longest while, I thought he'd have to bunk with Sodapop forever, but since last summer when he was forced to go to Hollis, he'd been sleeping on his own and doing well. So well, that the memory of the nightmares had slipped my mind. That is, until now.

"His headaches are back. He ain't sleeping much either, or eating hardly more than a bird eats. It's just like before."

"I thought the kid was sleeping in his own room?" Two-Bit asked, rare concern shadowing his face.

"He is. Just cause I ain't in there with him don't mean I can't see what I see. Mark my words, his nightmares are coming back."

I scrubbed my face, realizing Soda was probably right. He may not have done well in school, but he knew Ponyboy's ticks better than I did. "What set him off this time?"

Soda's eyebrows went up, Two-Bit shook his head. "No clue."

Great. "Some help you are."

Two-Bit smirked. He knew his help was invaluable.

Two-Bit laid down a three of clubs and swigged his beer. "Well, the _cause _is still unknown, but we all know the _cure_. He moving back in your room again?"

"That's up to him, but I don't think he wants to," Soda shrugged. "You guys would hound him mercilessly."

"Awwww... that hurts! You know I'd never pound him, I_ like_ the kid."

"Hound, not pound, you moron. You got a buzz in your ears already?" I asked.

He belched. "Not yet, but I'm working on it."

"Your mother teach you any manners whatsoever?" Soda asked, waving the odor away.

"Sure she did. I always put the seat down and close the door when Karen's home."

"_What_ a gentleman," I muttered. "She must be so proud."

The phone rang just as I was about to call the game. Regrettably, I answered it. "Hello?"

"_Is Ponyboy there?"_ I knew that voice.

"No, Linda," I sighed, "... he's gone to bed. Sorry."

"_Is he... okay?_"

"Yes, he's fine. Why do you ask?"

"_Our library just got the Tulsa Herald in from a week ago. There's an article about a robbery... it had his name. It said... it said he'd been shot."_

I cringed, remembering the article. "He wasn't hurt bad. It's more a scratch... really. He's fine. I'll tell him you called."

"_Tell him... tell him I'll call him back. And tell him...."_

I waited, but she never filled in the blank. For the life of me, I just don't get teenage romance. I became a little annoyed, wondering why she was even reading the Tulsa Herald when she was on the other side of the state. There was only one reason - and he was ten feet away, asleep. "I'll tell him. Goodnight, Linda."

"_Night, Darry. Thanks."_

"Who was that?" Soda asked, amused - as if he hadn't heard.

"Linda," I answered, biting on the two syllables of the Viper's name.

"Ewww... this should be good." Two-Bit rubbed his hands together, expecting something big.

I rolled my eyes. "She said she would call back. Enough's enough, I'm calling it. Show me your cards."

Two-Bit had a flush, I had a straight and Soda had three of a kind.

"Should have gone a few more hands, Darry m'boy. Thanks for the dough... and the food. I got to go before Ma has a cow. Told her I'd be home by now."

He pocketed the few pennies we were playing with while Soda shuffled the deck again.

"Wanna play rummy?"

I shook my head. "Nope. Think I'll head off to bed too." I got up but hesitated. "Hey Sodapop, if he's having nightmares... I need to know. Okay?"

Soda flipped off the dining room lights. "Sure, Dar. No problem. I ain't gonna leave you out of the loop."

I hoped not. Still, I had a feeling I was already several loops behind on this one.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	21. Residual Effects

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 21

**Residual Effects**

XXX

My alarm started beeping; without even having to look for it, I slapped the off button - silencing its infernal racket. Monday. Another day of labor. I took a deep breath, rubbed my face with the palms of my hands and sat up. As I pulled on my jeans, one thought kept running through my head – that this "work all day for peanuts just to pay the bills" crap wasn't worth the aches and pains I felt at six the next morning. Still, as I rummaged for a pair of matching socks and a shirt that wasn't hole-ridden, I knew it was my only option. I had at least two more years of this monotony before any break would come my way. _Sigh_. Coffee. I need coffee.

I trudged up the hallway, looking in the other two bedrooms of the house. Soda was still asleep in his bed, his arm over the empty space next to him. I shook my head, wondering when that habit would end. Further up the hall I noticed Pony's door was open, his bed empty.

"Ponyboy?" I called softly into the room, getting no answer. I moved on, smelling cooked food and noticing the kitchen light was on.

In a bowl on the counter were a couple of hard boiled eggs. Warm sausages were in another and on a plate was a pile of toast. "Ponyboy?" I called louder into the still of the house before noticing the back door open. It took another few seconds to find him, and even when I saw him, I had to look twice just to make sure. He was in the oak tree, laying against that favorite branch of his watching the sun come up.

"Hey," I said as I strolled over. He looked at me then back at the sky. "You're up early."

"Couldn't sleep." He yawned and hopped down. "Figured I may as well make breakfast. It should still be warm."

I looked closer at him. His eyes looked tired, but the way he looked around told me something else was bothering him.

"Something on your mind?"

He shook his head. "No. Nothing." He looked uncomfortable standing here, as if I were some stranger talking to him.

"Linda called for you last night." I don't think you could measure the time it took for his expression to change. "She said she'd call back. You were asleep and I didn't want to wake you. Soda says you haven't been sleeping so good at night. You sure nothing's wrong?"

"Did she say what she wanted?"

Sure, ignore_ my_ question entirely. "Just that she said she'd call you back." I left out that she'd read about the shooting incident. "You sure you're okay?"

He nodded, his eyes a little brighter but overshadowed with something he wouldn't say. "Yeah, I'm good. Gotta go get ready for school. I've got track practice this afternoon, don't forget."

I followed him inside, watching as he grabbed an egg on the way to the bathroom. Soda came stumbling down the hall, a towel wrapped around him and dripping water all over the floor.

"You two go for a morning stroll or something?" he asked as he smeared jelly on two pieces of toast and laid sausage patties between them. I frowned, thankful I didn't inherit this particular glitch.

"Not likely. Found him in the tree, watching the sun come up."

He chuckled. "Guess it's the unofficial start to spring if Pony's in the tree again. He's better than that old groundhog any day."

I smiled. "Yeah, old Punxsutawney Phil hasn't got anything on Pony."

"Hey, you guys ready to go?" Steve called in from the door.

"PONY!" Soda shouted as he turned back to his room to get dressed."Time to go!"

"Alright, jeeze, you ain't gotta shout." Ponyboy – dressed and ready – came out of his room, grabbed his bag and headed outside. I grabbed another egg and then my tools, and followed the rest of the misfits out the door.

"Soda, if you're riding with me, you'd better hustle!" I called back into the house. He showed up, just as Steve left.

"I need my own set of wheels," Soda grumbled as he hopped in next to me.

"Then you'd better figure out a way to pay for them, hot shot."

XXX

My head hurt._ Again_. I'd taken the last of my Tylenol, and the bottle of aspirin in my locker was empty too. I slammed the door - then regretted it. The clanging of the metal reverberated in my head as if it were a steel drum. I pinched the bridge of my nose, wondering if I had to start wearing my glasses more often.

"We'd have won the game if it hadn't been for you, stupid grease." I heard behind me. I turned to see a few soc's standing close, a little_ too _close.

"Yeah, well... I'm real broke up about it too," I muttered.

"Coach shouldn't have let you play so much. If he'd had any brain..."

"Gentlemen, mosey on to class. Andrew, I think you belong in history, Matt... the other end of the hall in English. Ponyboy..."

"Yes, ma'am, I'm due in chemistry." I made sure they weren't standing behind me before I turned my back on them but I didn't need to. Mrs. Hicks had already seen them off. She's a rover, a teacher who liked to roam the halls during breaks instead of waiting in the classrooms for the students to come in. I think she gets a kick out of seeing how many kids she can catch doing something wrong – one of those personalities that intend to fix the world by making sure we all behave in school.

Chemistry was boring. Mr. Teague loved to hear himself talk. Elements and atoms were his favorite subjects, and loved showing us how they connected using Styrofoam balls and lollipop sticks. It was interesting the first half of the year, but now I had to admit, watching little balls get stuck to medium sized balls was no more interesting than say -watching paint dry. Still, Mr. Teague would pass anyone as long as you acted like chemistry was the most fascinating subject the planet had to offer. And cheating – if you want to call it that – was even easier since he let us use our books for every major test. You could even pencil in your own notes to your hearts content.

Looking at my book, I tried to focus - but the pain behind my eyes wouldn't stop. Instead, I gazed at the periodic table in my text, trying to guess where all the abbreviations came from. Like, sodium is Na and potassium is K, but where did the Na and K originate?

As I thought harder, I brushed the red confetti spots off my page, then stopped when I realized they weren't confetti. They smeared. Another drop fell and I knew what it was. Crap, my nose was bleeding again. I pinched it off and kept my head down, trying to avoid being seen. It was an eternity before the bell rang, but when it did I grabbed my stuff and ran out of there as fast as I could.

The cool water felt good. At least the bleeding stopped. I'd managed to get to the boys bathroom and clean my face before my shirt got ruined. Just as I was leaving, a sudden loud bang sounded just outside the bathroom window, and I gripped the porcelain hard. A second later, the delivery van making all the noise pulled away and I tried to relax, letting go of the sink just as I felt something drip from my nose - again! I wiped the blood away, swearing to myself.

One the bleeding had stopped for the second time, I had just a minute to get to my next class and tried to rush. However, it led me right through a group of Soc's, most of whom were still of the opinion that I threw the game.

"Hey, grease... that was our last chance for a championship!" One of the seniors barked as he pushed me into the lockers. I dropped my bag and stood my ground, ready.

"I ain't all that pleased how it ended either."

"Yeah well ...point guard.... guard this!" He swung, I ducked and swung too. He clipped me on my shoulder but I landed one square in the midsection. The fight was on.

"Stupid grease bag!" one said.

"We'll teach you!" another joined in.

I was landing a good set of punches, hearing a few "oophs" along the way, but I'd landed in a hornets nest. I got slammed into the lockers a few times in the process but their fists also punched the metal when I could avoid them too. The hall suddenly was thick with people, a few greasers joining in the fracas just for the hell of it.

"Ponyboy, get out of here!" Someone hissed, and looking up I saw Steve as he rammed one of the guys into a locker. He disappeared in the crowd just as everyone seemed to scatter all at once. Only one thing could cause that... a teacher.

I tried to get my feet to go, but tripped over them just as a hand came down on me.

"Oh no you don't. Come on with me, young man. Principal's office. Now."

I was led down the hall by some teacher holding tightly to my bicep, squeezing it hard as if I were trying to wench away. In truth, I was just trying to make sure I had one foot in front of the other; the checkerboard tiles in the floor making me dizzy as we headed down the hall.

On the way, I noticed several people watching me, trying to act as if they were surprised anything was out of the norm. Two-Bit included, watching as I passed by him. Not far away was Steve, rubbing his jaw where I guess he'd been slugged. At least they'd managed to get out before getting caught.

"Sit!" She barked at me. I did, glad to stop moving. "Tell Mr. Lane that I managed to catch one of the students involved in the fight on the west hall," she commanded the secretary, eying me as if I were a convict. "What's your name?" she asked.

"It's okay, Mrs. Darcet. I know him," the secretary said. "Ponyboy, do you need to use the restroom? Your nose is bleeding."

"No ma'am. I'll be fine." I grabbed some tissues and held them against my nose while Mrs. Darcet filled out some form.

"Is Darrel available by phone?" she asked gently. I groaned, knowing this was going to happen. Darry was going to cream me.

"I don't think so. He's at some new site on the north side of town."

"Sodapop then?"

It sucks when my family's situation is known even by the secretary. Still, she looked at me with compassionate eyes.

"He's at work. He'll know how to reach Darry."

Mrs. Darcet gave me one more contemptuous look and left in a huff while Sodapop was called. In her low voice, I heard her end of the conversation.

"_Sodapop, this is the high school. I need to get in contact with Darrel." … "No, he's fine. But there was an altercation and Darrel will need to come down." … "Thank you." _

After she hung up the phone, she went behind the dark doors of the office and handed Mr. Lane the papers, reporting me for fighting. Another teacher – Mrs. Mose was there, discussing something with him already. I was glad, not so eager to rush into my fate. For a while, the tickity tackity of keys being hit as the secretary typed her heart out was the only noise in the room. I closed my eyes, resting my head against the cool leather seat while the soft voices of Mr. Lane and Mrs. Mose filtered through.

"_I'm sorry, Jeff, I know this leaves you in a lurch, but I have to leave before the end of term. I'm sure you can find a replacement. There are lots of people around who can perform at the ceremony."_

"_I understand, Lois. I just wish I had known sooner so I could plan. Best of luck to you. Tell your husband good luck for me too."_

The door opened and Mrs. Mose left, Mr. Lane giving me a stare. "You hurt, Ponyboy?"

I wiped my nose again, the bleeding all but stopped. I dropped the bloodied tissues in the trash and got some new ones. "No sir," I softly answered.

"Well, come in, let's hear your story."

His office was dark mahogany. The place seemed just right for a principal's office, dark and foreboding. I wondered if the paint had been touched up since Sodapop had sat in these same chairs.

"Fighting?" he asked, looking over the paper.

"Self-defense. I didn't start it."

He sighed, looking at me. The secretary came in, setting something on his desk and gave me a soft smile.

"Fighting is against the rules, Ponyboy. If someone is bothering you, you need to report it to a teacher, not resort to violence yourself. Who were the other students? Mrs. Darcet wrote here that there were at least two others she saw involved but wasn't able to apprehend them."

Great. Someone tosses me into a locker, and I'm supposed to go running to the office pointing my finger saying _"he's not being nice!_" Get real. "I didn't catch their names. Sorry, Mr. Lane."

He stared a moment longer then sat back, reading more from the file. I realized then that it was my file he was reading. I wondered how many times it had been perused, and by how many. My head was still killing me so I lay my head back and closed my eyes. Darry would come, eventually.

Eventually came soon enough.

"How may I help you?" I heard the secretary ask on the other side of the door.

"Darrel Curtis; you called for me?" His deep voice sounded controlled. My eyes shot open, white flecks flying in my vision.

"Hello again, Darrel. It's been a few years. Hold on, Ponyboy and Mr. Lane are in here...." a tap on the door later and he came in.

"Afternoon, Darrel," Mr. Lane stood up. I gave Darry a peek, and despite the calm demeanor he was giving off, I could see he was pissed. He took a seat next to me and returned my peek with a glare before turning his attention back to Mr. Lane.

"Mr. Lane. What happened?"

"Seems Ponyboy and some other students were involved in an altercation a little while ago. Unfortunately, the other students managed to get away... and Ponyboy doesn't seem to recall who they were. You understand the policy, no fighting allowed on school property. I'm afraid Ponyboy will need to go home for the rest of the day and will have to stay out tomorrow as well."

Darry's jaw clenched. "And as far as the other students he was fighting with?"

"If Ponyboy chooses to remember who they were, they will be questioned and appropriate action taken."

Darry's eyes glanced my way again, but I turned my head and stared at the red and white tissues in my hand.

"I will say this much," Mr. Lane went on. "Mrs. Hicks reported earlier that Ponyboy was being hassled by some of the senior class students. Whether the two events are related, I don't know. And I'm not sure who started either of these events. However, Ponyboy is a good student, with an above-average grade point average. I've been looking over his record, and despite all the traumatic things that's happened to him, he seems to be doing his best. I'm going to cut him some slack, seeing as how I'm not so sure who swung the first punch. I'll put down in his record that he was sent home for defending himself, not for starting the fight." Mr. Lane turned to me again. "Let this be a lesson to you, Ponyboy. I won't tolerate fighting in this school."

"Yes sir," I mumbled back. Like I cared – if someone takes a swing at me, I'm sure as heck gonna swing back. However, telling Mr. Lane that probably wouldn't do me any good right then.

"Is he still eligible for track? He was supposed to go to the tryouts this afternoon."

Mr. Lane ran his finger over his chin. "I'll give the coach a call. Ponyboy's an outstanding runner. I'm sure the coach can work something out. But he will have to miss the tryouts this afternoon. Anything else?"

"No sir. Thank you, Mr. Lane."

"You're welcome. I'd wished we could have met again under better circumstances, but as it is, let's just get the next few days behind us and move on. Have a good afternoon, Darrel. Ponyboy."

Now it was Darry's turn to squeeze my bicep as he all but dragged me from the school. He said nothing all the way to the truck, but let me have it once it was in gear and we were moving. I tried to keep up with the rant, but eventually it got away from me. I remember bits and pieces of it, things he'd said more than once.....

"Lost a few hours pay for this..." "...I don't send you to school to fight...." "... what the hell were you thinking..." "... Damn lucky if the coach lets you run...." It went on and on all the way to the house.

"Go clean yourself up, you've got blood all over your shirt." He seethed as he pulled me in the house. "Now you'd better listen up and listen good. I have to go back to work now, try to salvage some sort of paycheck out of this disaster. You'd better not leave these four walls. And when I come home, dinner had better be ready and the house in 'social worker inspection' shape. No excuses!"

His eyes were sparking like a bad battery cable. I nodded. He turned, left the house and with a squeal of the gas, was gone.

My nose dripped again and I went to the table and blew it, spraying blood all over the napkin. I found more Tylenol in the cabinet and swallowed them, hoping my headache would soon stop.

The house was quiet as I stood there, feeling the pounding of my heart in my eyes. I looked around, the general clutter of everyday mess occupying its usual spots, very little of it mine. I started in, picking up Darry's book on cabinetry that had been left on the coffee table; certain pages dog-eared, Soda's Auto magazine was on the floor by the armchair; just about every page advertising a car with a rather attractive yet scantily dressed woman draped over the hood. Which they were trying to sell confused me completely. Even Two-Bit's forgotten beer was on the floor by the couch. As I put it in the fridge, I noticed he'd left another one there as well, opened and half empty.

I took Darry's book to his room and dropped Soda's magazine on his bed, noticing the crumpled pack of smokes he'd taken from me on his dresser. I palmed them, meaning to take them back to my room – but instead I found myself in the kitchen, swiping Two-Bit's cold, unfinished beer and a lighter, heading out to the back porch. Sitting on the steps, I stared at them for a while; my mind blank. My head hurt too much to think. I took a swallow, the taste sharp, bitter; stinging my throat. How anyone could like this was beyond me. My hands shook as I lit the cigarette, lungs burning like razor cuts as I sucked it in. I coughed a bit, then swallowed more beer to wet my throat. One hand had the beer, the other had the smoke; and I gave each equal work.

As the minutes went by, I could tell my face was wet once more. _Shoot, I'm bleeding again_. _Stupid nose_, I thought. But wiping my face - it wasn't blood. It came from my eyes this time. I wiped again and again, my vision blurring after each wipe. What the hell? I finished the beer and stuck the butt in the bottle, then lay back against the house, closing my eyes. The sun was warm and I was tired. I'll take a nap and then get up to finish the house, hoping I could get at least one thing right today.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	22. A Hurting Silence

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 22

**A Hurting Silence**

XXX

Man, Darry is gonna skin the kid alive.

I watched from the shop's garage across campus as Darry hauled the kid to his truck, knowing Superman was going to fly off the handle over this. From the looks of things, neither was talking to the other, not that _that_ was any surprise. Still... the kid wasn't entirely at fault, a minor detail I knew Muscles wouldn't even consider. I whistled low and long, then slipped into a high note at the end to try to get their attention. The kid didn't seem to hear me but Darry's head turned in my direction. He didn't nod or wave, but his look told me he'd seen me. A moment later, they drove off. Twenty minutes after that, the bell rang. This was perhaps the only day I had ever looked forward to getting out of shop.

"Hey Two-Bit. How's the hand?" I called out as I met him in the parking lot.

"You should ask, how's your jaw?"

I smirked. It'd been a long time since we'd had a bit of fun during school hours, the only bad part being the kid getting caught. I moved my jaw back and forth a time or two, the soreness mostly gone. "This ain't nothing. Hey, you see Darry earlier?"

He shook his head. "Heck no. That last class I was in faces the field, not the front of the school. I take it you saw him?"

"Yeah. I'm uh, I'm gonna cut out for the rest of the day. I think Soda might want in on what happened."

Two-Bit was already opening my truck door. "Say no more, oh noble one. Lead on."

I gave him a look. "I thought you were trying to pass this year. How many days have you missed?"

"Ah, don't worry bout it. I'll pass, no sweat."

I stared. He seemed unconcerned about it, and frankly, I couldn't care less either.

XXX

Since the phone call this morning, I had been less than focused. Already I had rotated the tires on a car that just needed a patch on a flat, put the wrong bulbs in someone's headlights, and forgot to charge someone else for their new windshield wipers. I'd been so discombobulated that I hadn't noticed the lunch hour – even though Tom had already shown up to start his noon-to-eight shift.

"Sodapop, what's wrong with you man? You got your head in the clouds something bad today. Got a girl somewhere I don't know about?" he teased. Normally I didn't mind his jabs as we usually shot them back and forth, but not today.

"Mind your own business, Tom." I mumbled. He took the hint and headed back into the garage. The bell rang at the pump so I headed out. It was Steve and Two-Bit, Steve doing the self-serve bit. It was a relief to finally see someone who could tell me what the heck was going on.

"I can tell by the look on your face, you already heard." Steve said simply.

"They called here wanting to get in touch with Darry. I'd have gone over, but I was the only one here this morning. What happened?"

"Ponyboy and some of the clowns got into it. I don't know how it started, but when me and Steve showed up, there was already one heck of a hullabaloo in progress. Even Curly was there, hammering away on some jet-set well-to-do while Ponyboy unfortunately was the filling in a Soc sandwich."

"Cut it out, Two-Bit. He wasn't doing that bad, but he did need a little help. Naturally, we couldn't let the kid have all the fun. We managed to get a few licks in too." Steve smirked, shoving Two-Bit.

"Obviously he got caught, right?" I asked, ignoring their banter.

The smiles faded as they both nodded.

"I tried to warn him," Steve sheepishly explained, "but... he didn't make it out before one of those school hags snagged him. Anyway, I saw Darry's truck at the school a while later, then the both of them came out – Darry hauling the kid to the truck."

I shook my head. "You guys stop by the house before coming here?"

"Nope. Thought we'd better get here first. Knowing Darry, the kid's locked in his room like Rapunzel anyway."

I looked around, frustrated and angry. "What was the fight about in the first place?"

"No clue," Steve said. Two-Bit equally shook his head.

"Sodapop... did you put the oil up?" Tom called from inside the garage. He, too, sounded somewhat pissed.

"Yeah," I called over my shoulder.

"Man, I don't know what's wrong with you, but you put it all in the wrong bins."

"Shit," I muttered, running my hands through my hair.

"Just go home. You only got another hour on the clock anyway, it's gonna take me half that just to fix this."

For once, he was being nice. I looked over at him. "You sure?"

"Yeah. Go on. Hey Steve, get him straight. I ain't fixing this more than once."

"Hey man, thanks." Steve called to him. "Let's go."

We piled in Steve's truck and made it to my house in a few minutes. Parking by the curb, I would never guess anyone was home.

"Ponyboy?" I called out as we came inside.

"Hey kid, it's just us, we come in peace." Two-Bit laughed.

"He's probably sulking in his room," Steve teased, heading to the kitchen while I went down the hallway.

"Pone?" I called a little quieter as I knocked on his door. He wasn't in it, but out of the blue.....

"Oh shit!" Steve called out.

"Kid? Hey kid?" Two-Bit's voice was edgy, concerned.

"What happened?" I called out as I came down the hall and into the kitchen. Steve was already out on the back porch with Two-Bit next to him, both leaning over someone laying down. One step closer and I realized who the person was.

"Ponyboy?" Two-Bit called out, squatting next to him while I kneeled down by his head.

"Where'd all this blood come from?" The lower half of his face looked like he'd wiped it in red paint.

"You don't think Darry'd... not after the last time...." Steve looked at me, stunned.

"Don't go there," I said, forcing those old memories from my mind. "Ponyboy?" I called out, shaking him a little.

"Good lord, tell me that ain't beer I smell on him," Two-Bit's eyes were wide, shocked. I leaned closer and took a whiff, smelling it too even over the oil and diesel on my clothes. I wondered what the hell had happened.

Ponyboy'd only had one previous brush with alcohol, a few months after our parents were killed. He'd puked for an hour straight, vowing never to touch the stuff again between each lurch of his stomach into the toilet. Back then, it was sort of funny, watching him suffer through his introduction with the stuff. Hell, we'd all had that experience, one way or another.

I'd held Steve's head out of his own puke when he was twelve and he'd done the same for me when I was close to fourteen. Thank God my parents never knew. Darry'd found out but kept it quiet, as no one had ratted him out either when he'd celebrated a football win with something besides a soft drink. I think Two-Bit was weaned off the tit with alcohol, so his experiences were long and plenty. Dal came to us from New York already able to hold his liquor, and Johnny... well, he didn't drink at all. None of us would have said a thing if he'd had anyway.

But for some reason, when Pony'd tried the stuff that one and only time, Darry's reaction to that particular passage of youth seemed different. Darry, being the guardian, had to stop being Pony's big brother who otherwise would have kept it secret. Instead, he'd chewed him out and grounded him – the first time Darry's authority over us was ever used or taken seriously. Things just never went back to the way they were after that.

Up till now, Pony had kept that vow – never to touch the stuff. I knew the thought of drinking bothered him some and he didn't like to hang around people who were drunk either; Two-Bit being the exception. So whatever had pushed him over that edge had to be big.

"He's been smoking too. What the hell was he thinking?"

Steve also smell it and glanced away, his troubled look disturbing. Nearby, there was an empty overturned bottle that he reached for. I also gave it a glance, noticing droplets of beer clinging to the insides with a single cigarette butt rolling around in the bottom. It obviously wasn't old. Steve handed the bottle to Two-Bit. "Your brand, buddy."

"God, Darry's gonna kill him," I muttered. "Pony," I called sharply. "Wake up!"

"Jesus, the kid has zero tolerance if he passed out after just one bottle!" Two-Bit stammered with a surprising yet subtle laugh. Suddenly, I snapped. This was in no way funny. I grabbed Two-Bit by the front of his shirt and pulled him within an inch of my face, snarling.

"Look, you alcoholic asshole, this is my kid brother we're talking about here. Things were bad enough without this happening! You have no idea how ballistic Darry is going to be if he comes home and finds our fifteen year old brother drunk off your goddamn beer. So, you'd better help me fix this or scram! I need your help, not your smart-ass comments right now! Reading me clear enough?"

He'd grabbed my wrist when I first snatched him up, then seemed to get the picture. "Sure Sodapop. You know I don't mean no harm."

"What do you want us to do?" Steve asked.

"Help me get him inside." I took one arm while Steve got the other, hoisting him to his feet.

"What's...." Pony mumbled, his head lolling to the side.

"Oh sure, now he wakes up – _after_ my hernia sets in." Steve groaned. He was being a bit dramatic, Pony had put on some muscle to go along with his few newest inches in height, but it wasn't _that_ much. It wasn't the weight that hindered us anyway; it was the fact that Pony's long arms and legs gave us no help in moving him. It was awkward, shuffling him in the house and down the hall, but we managed.

"I gotta cook.... " he mumbled. "Dar said... I gotta... co..."

"You ain't cooking nothing, kid." Steve muttered, struggling to keep Ponyboy on his feet.

What worried me most was _time_ - we were working against it. Darry would be home in a few hours, and I didn't know if it was enough to fix the newest damage Pony had done to himself. And to think... just an hour ago I was only worried about Ponyboy being in a fight. Now he was drunk and had been smoking – one vice neither Darry nor I ever wanted him to try again, the other one we'd both hoped we'd seen the last of. If I was lucky, Darry'd be pissed enough to work late, taking out his anger on nails and shingles.

"Two-Bit, make some coffee," I called out over my shoulder.

"On it."

"You got a plan?" Steve asked as we hauled Ponyboy down the hall. "Cause you know you ain't gonna be able to hide this."

"Bathroom," I answered.

We got him in and plunked him on the toilet, Steve held him as I stripped his shirt off. The blood on his face had dried, nothing seemed swollen or broken – I couldn't fathom Darry hitting him again, no matter how pissed he may have been. Then I remembered his nosebleeds from when I was in the hospital, and knew that a buttload of stress would cause it to gush like a geyser. Whatever it was, I'd worry about later. Right now, I had to get him awake and sobered up. I stripped off my own shirt, turned on the shower and stepped in the tub.

"Hand him to me," I said, holding my arms out. If he'd been a little kid, this wouldn't have been so hard. However, Ponyboy was essentially dead weight and seemed nothing but a myriad of limbs. Still, Steve managed to haul him into the tub and slide him down by me. I held him to my chest as the spray rained down on us both. Pony jerked as the water hit his face.

"Wha...?" he started.

"Whoa, Pone. It's Sodapop. You're okay," I soothed, holding his arms across his chest. Last thing I needed was to get slugged while he got his bearings.

"Soda?" He looked up at me, his confused eyes reddened.

"Here's the coffee. I put an ice cube in it to cool it some. You want him to drink it or bathe in it?"

"Funny, Two-Bit," I answered. I tasted it – making sure it wasn't so hot it would scald him. "Here Pone, drink this." I held the cup to his mouth and he slurped some in, then spewed it all over the tub. Thank goodness we were already wet.

"I hate coffee," he groaned.

"Funny, you don't seem to have a problem with beer." Steve returned.

"Just drink it anyway." I insisted, putting the cup back to his mouth. He slurped again, this time swallowing with a grimace. For a minute, it was him and me with the guys in the doorway, nobody saying a word. They seemed to sense they could do nothing more for us at that moment, and left the bathroom.

"Come on, Two-Bit. Lets see what there is to cook around here."

For a while, all I could do was hold him against me, remind him to drink the coffee and listen to the water spraying us both. Eventually, he started to shiver and curled up against me more.

"Ponyboy?"

"Yeah?" he lifted his head momentarily to look at me, the water beading down his face like a flood of tears before he lay back against my chest.

"Why, Pone? Why'd you do this?"

He was quiet for a bit and gave a small shrug. "I dunno. I just... I give up. I just give up."

That answer – the way he put it - defeated, dejected; it wasn't like him. None of that was Ponyboy. He was quiet, yeah. He was a thinker.. sure. But he was _not_ someone who gave up. Never.

"Don't be that way. Talk to me. Whatever's wrong, we can fix it."

He looked at me, eyes red but awake. "Sometimes, Sodapop, there are things even you can't fix."

His words and how he said them stunned me. Slowly working his legs over the side of the tub, he got out and stood, pulling a towel around his shoulders. He wobbled some, but before I could reach out to steady him, he caught the sink and steadied himself, then turned to leave the bathroom, heading to his room. I turned the tap off then sat against the tub for a moment, listening first to the sounds of his dresser opening followed by the creaking of his bed springs a moment later. Water dripped out of the tap - the only sound until footsteps rounded the corner. Steve had appeared in the doorway again.

"You okay?" he asked, handing me a towel.

I ran my fingers through my hair and nodded. "I'll be fine."

He stood still and watched me, waiting for something else. Finally I shook my head, standing. "I'd better get this bathroom cleaned up. How's dinner?"

He smiled some, a knowing, understanding smile, and it wasn't just about dinner that he was understanding. "It's in the oven. Two-Bit and I came up with a few ideas." He waited while I looked around the bathroom. "How's Ponyboy?"

I shook my head. "I don't know." I wished I understood this myself.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose

A/N Thanks Sam!


	23. A Plea For Help

**Winter's Soliloquy**

Chapter 23

**A Plea For Help**

**XXX**

I pulled up to the house, noticing the lights on in the living room. I sighed, not wanting to deal with the angry stares I knew I was going to get. I'd seen Steve at the school, knew he probably saw or heard what had happened. Hell, I remembered when I was a student - if there was a fight on campus, within a half hour everyone knew about it. Wildfire couldn't spread that fast.

I was reasonably sure whatever had happened, Pony wasn't the one to throw the first punch. It just wasn't in his nature. He fought to defend himself, not for kicks or even in retribution. He didn't even like fighting Socials. Still... he knows the rules. Whatever you're doing that could cause trouble for us... you'd better damn sure not get caught. He'd not only gotten caught, but suspended as well.

I headed in. The television was on as was the radio, but both had their volumes subdued, no one even listening. Not only that, the place was still messy. He'd ignored the one thing I'd told him to do – clean up.

"Hey, Darry. We already ate... didn't know if you were coming in or working at the warehouse." Soda pulled something out of the oven and sat it on the table. The guys, I noticed, were playing a curious game of silent poker at the other end of the table, Soda's cards face down and for once, no one was trying to peek at his hand while he was up.

"Ponyboy eat?" I went to wash my hands in the kitchen, getting a cup of ice water to drink dinner down with.

"Yeah. He wasn't feeling too hot, went to lay down already."

_Yeah, I bet he ain't feeling too hot, _I thought. _He's avoiding me, just like I figured he would._ I looked at Sodapop who was working too hard trying to act natural.

"I take it you know he was in a fight at school. He's suspended – today and tomorrow. I doubt the teachers will let him make up his work, either."

Soda looked stoney faced. "Cut the act, Sodapop. I know with the watchdogs sitting here, you already knew this." Steve's eyebrows moved, like he was looking at me without lifting his head, but both he and Two-Bit said nothing.

"Yeah. I knew. What was the fight about?"

I took a bite and looked up at him. "I already told you, cut it out. I'm sure Steve or Two-Bit here could tell you more than I can. Pony too, since he seems to rattle off to you anything and everything. As for _me -" _I said, gesturing at my chest with my fork - "I only heard that he was in a fight. The teacher who caught him said there were a few others involved but she couldn't catch them or get their names. Pony was the only one caught."

"Did he... _say._.. anything when you brought him home?"

I looked at Soda, wondering what he was aiming for. He certainly wasn't acting like I thought he would. Hell, I guess I expected him to bake a cake in celebration of Pony's screwing up.

"No, he kept his trap shut. I _did _tell him to cook dinner and clean up, which," I looked around again, "he didn't do. Ponyboy!" I yelled, hoping he'd be smart and not make me call again.

"Sorry, Darry, that may have been me making the mess." Two-Bit said carefully. "I was horsing around..."

I wondered who he thought he was fooling. "Shut up, Two-Bit."

No one said anything more and I took another bite... then looked down at what I was eating.

"Who made this?" I suddenly asked.

"Pony did." Soda answered carefully. The card game, I noticed, was slowing to a snails pace.

I chewed and swallowed, then looked around the room. "Sodapop, I know every meal he has cooked in his life - good, bad and burned beyond recognition ... and he has never made this before. Ever. You didn't make it either, since nothing is colored wrong or spiced weird."

"You don't like it?" he asked. The card game ground to a halt.

"I didn't say I didn't like it. It's probably one of the best meals I've had in a long time - but that isn't my point. I told Ponyboy to make dinner. I also told him to clean up! Who ..."

"I made it, Darry." Steve said, looking up.

"Me too. We both … did..." Two-Bit might be a flunkie, but he was reading my expression well enough.

"Ponyboy Michael Curtis!" I yelled, my chair flipping back as I stormed to my feet. As fast as I was, the three of them beat me to the hallway, blocking me.

"Move!" I demanded.

They stood there, refusing to budge.

"Darry.. stop! He's sick! I told you he wasn't feeling well, now leave him alone. Punish him tomorrow for not cleaning... hell, punish me for lying to you! But you leave him alone!"

"Sodapop, move it! The rest of you too!" I barked. Still, despite some faint trepidation visible in their eyes, they stood their ground. However, their ground was in my house. I reached out to force my way through the blockade.

"No Darry... don't!" Steve insisted, backing up right to Soda's door. Two-Bit and Soda did the same. "Leave the kid alone."

I didn't understand this! I was already mad that he'd been in a fight, then pissed when I realized he blew me off when I told him to clean and cook. Now, even the guys were infuriating me by not letting me near him. Then, like a ray of light in a stormy sky ... I got it. Something else was going on.

I locked eyes with Soda and gritted my teeth. "What's wrong with him now? Is he even _home_?"

"Yes he's home! He's just sick, I told you. Let him sleep."

"Move!"

"Darry..." Two-Bit tried, but I glared at him, shutting him up.

"Sodapop Patrick Curtis, move out of my way -_ now_!"

"No! I won't let you!"

Before he or I could say more, the door opened behind them.

"It's okay, guys."

Eyes moved, then bodies. Two-Bit and Steve stepped aside while Sodapop went to stand behind Pony. I looked him up and down – his color was off, but other than that, I didn't see anything wrong. "You sick?"

"My head hurts and my stomach ain't settled. Otherwise..."

I smelled it right off the bat. "You've been drinking!"

He looked at me a second then didn't bother trying to deny it. "Yes, I have."

As God as my witness, I wanted to throttle him. "What the _hell_ is your problem?" I stepped forward but the guards tried to get in my way again.

"No Darry, don't!" Two-Bit nearly yelled.

I pushed him away as I stood toe to toe with my youngest brother. He looked at me, his eyes suddenly stopping me. They weren't defiant. They weren't angry. They weren't… _anything!_ Empty. Dull. Even this afternoon, they were a little off, but they still had emotion. Now, even the chagrin that was there from me having to go to the school to get him was gone.

If I'd hit him, he wouldn't have fought back. If I'd cursed him, he wouldn't have cried. Even if I'd tickled him, he wouldn't have laughed. Unlike a year ago - if I'd hit him now, I doubted he'd have run away. He'd have stood there, taking hit after hit until I stopped - or the guys stopped me. That's probably why they wouldn't let me near him; they probably thought I'd lose control again. Knowing this was painful; that they felt I'd physically hurt him again, no matter how untrue I knew that to be.

I wouldn't hurt him. I'd yell, I'd scream... but I'd never hit him again. I might take out the wall next to him, but I'd never hit him.

But _looking_ at him, I saw a void; a despondency of everything reflected in his eyes, and it scared me. This was something worse than getting caught fighting, or disobeying, or even drinking. It was as if he was done. Done living.

My heart pounded in my chest while my adrenaline rush tapered down. I backed away, giving him room again. The guys likewise relaxed some. Still, despite the fact he had his eyes locked on mine, his expression was hollow.

From my peripheral vision, I could see Soda's head turning from me to Pony and back, worried what I was going to do. He needn't have. I reached out, gently touching Pony's pale forehead with my hand.

"You're not hot, but still - go lay down."

His stare into my eyes persisted for a few seconds more, then he turned and crawled back in Soda's bed. Whether he chose this bed or if Soda insisted he lay here, it was a good choice. I don't think I would have wanted him alone tonight. Once the alcohol left his system, I would get to the bottom of this.

"Have you had anything to eat today, Pone?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Fine, but have you eaten?"

He looked at the window. "No."

"Steve made some chicken tetrazzini, I'll put some in a bowl for you."

"I'm not hungry."

I looked at him. "You need to eat. It'll help get that alcohol out of your system. Then you can go to sleep."

I didn't wait for the third,_ I'm not hungry,_ to come my way. I was more than used to his quirky appetite. The guys followed me down the hall, Soda staying behind.

"Fill me in," I said, knowing they were behind me. They said nothing and I tired of their apprehension. I turned and looked at them. "I can't help him if I don't know what to fix. So tell me... what happened?"

"First off," Steve started, "the fight wasn't his fault. Some Soc's were razzing him about losing the game. You know how it goes – the point guard sets the flow even if he's not the one making the baskets. Anyway, we weren't there when the first punch got thrown, but jumped in to help when we could. We got word that a teacher was coming and split. I tried to warn him, but by then he was a bit dazed. He got hauled to the office, and later I saw you and the kid leaving. Dinglebutt here," he said jerking his thumb at Two-Bit, "and I split at lunch, snagging Sodapop on the way over."

"We found him on the back porch," Two-Bit continued, "asleep with an empty bottle of beer and a crushed pack of smokes by him. Steve and Soda got him inside, woke him up and got him to drink some coffee. Then he went to bed. Soda checked on him a few times while we cooked."

"I didn't want you knowing," Soda said from the doorway, ending the explanation. "It ain't their fault."

I got a fork from the drawer, pocketed the aspirin and poured a glass of Tang. "I didn't say it was anyone's fault, but you know how I feel about him drinking. And smoking too? Something's going on, and I need to know what. If the social workers were to come by, what the hell do you think would happen? I'm disappointed, Sodapop." I leaned against the counter, as if pushing it away. "Really disappointed. Pony for being in this mess in the first place – and drinking to boot, but disappointed in you too. You shouldn't have lied to me. None of you."

I left them in the kitchen as I went back to Ponyboy's side. He was still facing away, looking at the window. "Here, for a bunch of overgrown mechanics and goof-off's, they seem to cook rather well." I didn't expect him to laugh, but I was hoping for some glimmer of life in his eyes. They remained dull. I took two aspirin out, laying them by the glass and pocketed the bottle again. "Take these and eat something. We'll talk tomorrow. I won't yell, either. But we're going to have to talk."

He said nothing and I left the room. Soda was standing against the kitchen doorway, his hands in his pockets, face drawn. The guys were gone. I felt the heaviness in the house on my shoulders. Soda didn't even look up.

"Don't leave him alone," I said softly. "Call me if you need help."

He nodded and went to his room. I heard the mattress creak under Soda's added weight, hoping they actually would call for me if they needed me.

XXX

I ignored the bowl even though the tetrazzini smelled mouth watering. My headache hurt, but then – my head always hurt. I shrugged, reached for the pills and swallowed them without the Tang. I already had the feeling that Darry thought I was suicidal, since he left the pills but not the bottle. I didn't care. I wasn't interested in offing myself. Maybe it was just the half bottle of beer (man was I a lightweight), or maybe it was the fight. Maybe it was the futility of life. Whatever it was, I just didn't want to play anymore. I wanted a time out.

The door opened, Sodapop quietly slipping across his room to the bed. There was a pause as he stopped, pulled off his shirt, then lay down. His hand touched my shoulder and I gave in, scooting back a bit. He knew my cues as well as I knew his. His arm went around me as I curled into him. _I'm too old for this. Soda's legally an adult. Social services would put both my brothers in jail if they saw us._ I didn't care and neither – I think – did Sodapop. They'd never understand that his embrace was like a security blanket, one I desperately needed right then.

"It's okay, Ponyboy. Talk to me, please. Tell me what's wrong," he softly whispered into my ear as he held me close, making me feel safe.

I had no answer since I also had no clue. Tears rolled down my face and I shook, trying not to sob. Soda must have heard me as he pulled me just that much closer to him and said nothing of substance more. His only words until I fell asleep were gentle shushes mixed with murmurs that I would be alright.

XXX

Sunlight filtered in my window and I jerked awake, my head still splitting from all the unresolved issues from yesterday. I got my things and went down the hall to shower, stopping to check on the guys first. They were both still asleep, curled up against each other; Soda's arm finally having something besides empty space to lay across. I blinked and headed on down the hall, hoping Soda managed to get something out of Ponyboy.

XXX

I heard the shower turn on, the squeaky faucets giving away that someone else – Darry - was awake. I looked at Pony's sleeping face, shaking him a little.

"You awake?"

"Yeah," he answered without opening his eyes.

"You okay?"

"Headache's still there."

"That's called a hangover, little bro." I got up, scrubbed my face and looked over at him. "Take some aspirin and it'll go away. Eat something too. Better yet, let Darry _see _you eat, it'll do a lot to smooth things over with him."

"It ain't a hangover, it was only half a beer. Besides, my head was already hurting."

I found my clothes hanging in my closet and pulled them out. "If you get tanked on half a beer, may I suggest you don't drink anymore? It's obviously not something you're meant to do."

He sat up and stared blankly out the window as I went back and forth in my room, pulling on my DX shirt and changed into my work pants. I sat down next to him, socks in hand and tried again, hoping sleep had lifted the fog from yesterday's events.

"Care to tell what was so bad yesterday?"

He looked at me then fingered the fringe on the blanket. "I don't know," he said with a shrug.

I sighed, patted his knee and got up again. "I have to go to work. If you want to talk, call me. Come over even. Just... just don't sit here and wallow. Whatever's wrong, we can work it out - just like we always do." I looked at him, noticing he hadn't moved much. I kneeled in front of him, determined to see his eyes. "I love you, Ponyboy. You're my brother... I hate seeing you like this."

"Soda.... time to go!" Darry called from the living room. I felt torn again - needed at work, but _needed_ at home.

"Love you too, Sodapop," he mumbled. It was tearing me up, seeing him so lost. At least he spoke. "Go on, I'll be fine."

"Alright, but you try to have a good day. Enjoy being out of school, pretend you're cutting or something. Maybe play the piano a little – I know you like that. Just... don't sweat this. Besides, you have the grades to not make this hurt you too bad anyway. It'll be fine. Really."

He gave a fake smile, nodding. I patted his leg again and headed down the hall just in time to hear Darry yelling for me again.

"He talking any?" Darry asked as we drove off.

"A little." I answered, unsure if that was the right answer.

XXX

I listened to the quiet. Silence was everywhere. I hated it. Since that night when I faced the barrel of a gun and felt it go off, when motion stood still, when light went dark and sound echoed away to deafness, I haven't been able to see or hear anything right. I haven't _felt_ right. I was lost and desperately searched for a beacon that would lead me back. Not even Soda could ignite a light that bright. But I knew who could.

I picked up the phone, dialing a number my fingers had memorized. It rang once, twice. Then...

"_Hello?" _

"Linda?" I asked, already knowing it was her.

"_Ponyboy? My God, are you alright? I've been trying to get in touch with you for days!"_

I listened to her voice, not wanting her to stop talking, unsure what words to say back. I'd closed my eyes, wishing I could wrap myself in her arms.

"_Ponyboy, are you there?"_

"Yeah," I said, trying hard to hold my voice steady. Tears were already welling up, blinding my vision again.

"_Are you okay?" _she asked carefully.

_No_, I wanted to say. _I'm falling apart._ "I need you," was all I could muster, my voice cracking despite my struggle to keep it steady.

"_I'm on my way."_

XXX

Calla Lily Rose

And with a warm sun ushering away the last of the bitter cold, the soliloquy ends.

Thank you, all the readers and reviewers, who have stayed with me through the ups and downs of this particular story. It's a tad after the beginning of spring as I write this.. there have been more problems with this story and behind the scenes than I have had in a _very_ long time. My sincere apologies if it doesn't live up to the Summer and Autumn season stories. I do, however, put a lot of work into each chapter and each story in the hopes that everyone stays in character, the flow is even, and each new submission has something that brings you – the reader - back, time and time again. Special thanks to Feisty Feist... a great inspiration and great writer in her own right. She's kept me going when at times I have so wanted to give up.

And... while I'm at it, I recently went back and did some re-tooling on Missing Days, my very first submission on FF. It's still a bit raw – I didn't want to take that away, but, like Soda does... I tweaked it, making the engine hum a little better. Anyway, thanks everyone. You are why I write.

Calla


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